


Spirit's Pride

by wig_powder



Series: Pride and Spirit [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Gen, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-12-28 04:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 45,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21130916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wig_powder/pseuds/wig_powder
Summary: With the Blight defeated, Grey Warden Amell is tasked to assist the Wardens in a variety of ways. She's more than willing to oblige, though her demon companion is much less enthusiastic about it. Amell hopes that new places, faces, ideas, and adventures will slowly bring him around, but given the chaos Thedas descends into on what seems like a regular basis, it's going to be quite the challenge to look after both himandthe world.





	1. New Responsibilities

The next few months were an interesting time. Everyone was relieved that the Blight had been ended before it had taken too many lives, and many were in awe of the power of the Grey Wardens. They’d even come to call Amell the Hero of Ferelden, and while she appreciated the title, she felt it was only partially deserved. But since she doubted anyone would appreciate, much less believe, the true story of how the Archdemon had met its end, she kept her mouth shut.

After a day or two of celebration, most of her companions said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Sten was returning to his homeland; Zevran was hoping to track down his former group of assassins in order to “cut ties” with them (Amell knew better than to ask for details); Leliana also had unfinished business to wrap up in Orlais; Oghren was joining the Ferelden army; Shale was returning to Orzammar to help clear the darkspawn out of the Deep Roads and help the dwarves regain some of their lost lands; Wynne had been offered a position at court; and Loghain had been sent off to try to recruit more people for the Grey Wardens. Even her dog was going to be temporarily separated from her, as the royal kennels were hoping to breed him. At a loss for what she herself would do, Amell finally decided to do some travelling. Her reason for that was threefold—it would allow her to truly feel like she had a break from all the responsibilities she’d shouldered during the Blight, she could explore the world she’d been cut off from once she’d been forced into the Circle, and the relative solitude might allow her to begin the task of helping Mouse shed his corruption. Though that last one was very much proving to be an uphill battle.

Angry at being unable to access his newfound power, Mouse had apparently vowed to make life as difficult for Amell as possible. He refused to speak to her, and when he had to follow her around, he’d lag behind as much as he dared. Attempting to carry him only resulted in him scratching up her hands. Knowing better than to stick him in her pauldron and feeling silly carrying her pack around the castle (with the added suspicion that Mouse would start damaging the items in there), Amell commissioned a hip pouch, something that was large and solid enough for Mouse to comfortably shift position in while also resistant to damage from his claws. It would also allow him to be hidden from sight unless he poked his head out of the top of it, so he wouldn’t have to engage with anybody unless he wanted to. Mouse gave her a scornful look when she explained its purpose, but she informed him that it was either this or a heavily charmed cage. Only then did he reluctantly climb into it, sitting sullenly at the bottom while Amell went about making her preparations for their trip. At night, she would set the pouch on a table before casting multiple wards and glyphs, just as she had when Mouse was first bound to her. She hated to do it, but with that much power inside him, she wasn’t taking any chances.

There was one small ray of hope, however. To try to soothe her conscience, Amell had opened a book of philosophy and set it by Mouse on the first night before casting the wards, a peace offering of sorts. When she woke up the next morning, the pages were covered in tiny holes, and she’d initially assumed Mouse had started tearing the book up as well. But then she looked closer and noticed that the book was open to page thirty, instead of page eight, the page she’d opened to the night before. She knew it wasn’t wise to call attention to it, and just left the book on the table for Mouse to continue reading every night. She even delayed leaving the palace until he’d finished the book, not wanting to add another reason for him to be mad at her.

The travelling was simultaneously rewarding and frustrating. She saw some beautiful things, both natural and manmade, and she now had the luxury to spend nights in inns instead of always having to camp. In fact, she often got free or discounted nights thanks to her new heroic status. There was still the occasional group of bandits or a few scattered darkspawn that she had to fight, and from time to time she came across people who instinctively flinched when they saw the staff on her back, but for the most part, it was all very pleasant. There was just the little matter of Mouse.

If Amell was being honest, Mouse actually wasn’t that much of a burden. He sat in his pouch, never helping her with things but never getting in the way either. It was just that he still refused to talk. While this did mean he wasn’t getting her in trouble by insulting innkeepers or shop owners, it also meant she wasn’t making any obvious headway on removing his corruption. She tried engaging him in conversations about the human condition, asking if he had any more questions for her, but he either ignored her or rolled his eyes and made a huffing noise. It grated on her, and she suspected he knew it, but she did her best to remain calm. Instead, she talked _at_ him, picking a topic she thought he might like and then relating everything she knew or thought about the subject, asking rhetorical or hypothetical questions in lieu of Mouse contributing to the conversation. There was a good chance he was just tuning her out, but if there was even the slightest possibility that he was listening, Amell thought it was worth the effort.

She tried to reach out to him in one other way, too. Whenever they came across a trader or a town, Amell would look through the wares to see if there any books that Mouse might enjoy. When she found one, she’d buy it, and on the nights when they stayed at an inn, she’d set both the book and Mouse’s pouch close together before casting the wards. She’d also find excuses to stay in town until the book was finished, whereupon she’d leave it behind for the next guest in order to save some weight. She only hoped they wouldn’t mind the pages being covered in tiny claw and teeth marks.

***

Six months after the end of the Blight, a messenger tracked Amell down in Wulverton, presenting her with a letter sealed with the sigil of the Grey Wardens. When Amell opened the letter, she discovered to her absolute shock that the First Warden, the leader of all Wardens everywhere, had named her as Ferelden’s Commander of the Grey, tasking her to go Amaranthine and take control of Vigil’s Keep, which had been designated the new Warden headquarters. Baffled as to why the First Warden had chosen her instead of Loghain, Amell nevertheless wrote a quick response thanking the First Warden for the honor, and saying she was on her way to Vigil’s Keep. Then she pulled out her map and tried to find the quickest way to Amaranthine.

During the week and a half it took her to travel there, Amell began to see signs of trouble. She’d been keeping to the more populated areas of Ferelden, figuring there was more to see there. Here on the fringes, she was seeing a lot more groups of darkspawn, even though most of them should have returned underground, at least according to reports on previous Blights. But according to the people she talked to, they had mostly disappeared for a month or so, then returned to harass the populace. Some claimed they were more organized than ever. While Amell was almost positive this had nothing to do with Mouse having absorbed a lot of the Archdemon’s power and corruption, she nevertheless proceeded to give him a series of commands, carefully worded to prevent loopholes, telling him to cease and desist anything he might be doing to influence the darkspawn. He didn’t respond with anything more than a roll of the eyes, of course, but if she had the power to stop this, she was certainly going to use it. If it turned out he _was_ the cause of all this, she’d do what she should have done back on top of Fort Drakon. She only hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

When she was two days walk away from Vigil’s Keep, she was met by a soldier who was hoping to join the Grey Wardens and who in fact had already spent a little time at the Keep. The soldier, Mhairi, treated Amell with a combination of respect and awe, and while part of her enjoyed the praise, she was a little afraid all her interactions with people were going to be like this from now on. Though at least she had a reminder at her hip that she wasn’t infallible and that not everybody loved her.

Evening was falling when the three of them came in view of the Keep. It was an imposing sight, but before Amell could fully take it in, she heard the sounds of distant fighting, and it didn’t sound like a mock battle for training purposes. She got confirmation of that a second later when she saw a jet of flame shoot out from one of the towers, and she pulled her staff off her back and quickened her pace, Mhairi on her heels. Shortly thereafter, they ran into a man fleeing the Keep, who informed them that it was under attack by darkspawn. Amell sighed, hefted her staff, and told Mhairi “Get ready for some on-the-job training.” Then she ran towards the Keep, already generating a Cone of Cold in her hand.

It took at least two hours to clear out the Keep, though Amell had some unexpected help. First, there was a dwarf who seemed to have a talent for explosions. Then there was the semi-familiar face of Anders, a mage she’d seen in the Circle but never really spent a lot of time with, since he passed his Harrowing two years after she arrived there. She mostly knew him by reputation, the mage who kept escaping the Circle. The Templars had been in the process of hauling him back yet again when they’d wound up in the middle of this fight, and had been slaughtered by the darkspawn. Finally, once they were inside the Keep proper and trying to clear out the halls, they ran across Oghren, who like Mhairi had come to the Keep with the intention of becoming a Warden. Remembering his propensity for drinking, Amell wasn’t entirely sure he’d be suited for the job, but given how thin the Warden ranks were at the moment, she knew beggars couldn’t be choosers. Besides, he was good with an axe, and if he could help them clear out the darkspawn in the Keep, he’d be more than welcome to try his luck at the Joining.

When the four fighters (and one reluctant tag-along) reached the Keep’s roof, they were confronted by something Amell had heard rumors of, but hadn’t wanted to believe. There was a darkspawn there who was clearly in charge of this current horde…and it was talking. This was completely unprecedented, and Amell didn’t know what that meant for the future. In the here and now, though, she and her companions proceeded to kill it after several minutes of rough fighting. At least it didn’t seem that much tougher than a darkspawn alpha or emissary.

Although Amell was assured the Keep was secured for the moment, and was now exhausted from both the trip to get to the Keep and the fight to reclaim it, she wasn’t allowed to rest until the Joining had been undertaken and a few official matters had been taken care of. Oghren and Anders (who had been talked into joining the Wardens so he wouldn’t have to keep running from the Templars) survived, but Mhairi sadly succumbed to the darkspawn corruption. Then Amell had to be officially sworn in as the new Warden-Commander and leader of both Vigil’s Keep and Amaranthine, introduced to captain of the guard Garevel and Warden treasurer Mistress Woolsey, and bombarded with questions about what had happened and what she planned to do next. She eventually convinced the assembled soldiers and civilians that she needed a day’s rest so she could think clearly, and was led to her room, where she only just had enough energy to drop her pack, place Mouse’s pouch on the nearest table, cast the usual glyphs, and then fall across the bed. She was asleep as soon as her face touched the mattress.

The next morning, she decided to leave Mouse in his nest of wards and explore the Keep on her own. Based on everything she’d been told the night before, she wouldn’t be getting much in the way of privacy for as long as she held the title Warden-Commander, so she might as well take advantage of one of the last opportunities she’d have to be on her own. Mouse gave her an annoyed look when she walked past him without dispelling the wards, but she just blinked blandly at him and left the room.

For a while, she wandered the halls, waving off any servants she ran into who asked if she needed anything and poking her head into the various doors, making a mental map in her head. It seemed the main body of the Keep was mostly composed of the throne room, a great hall for eating, as well as bedrooms for guests and important figures (such as herself). There was also a staircase heading downstairs that presumably led to the kitchens, servants quarters, and hopefully a small armory in case the main garrison was overrun. Amell figured she’d look that over later, but wanted to finish her examination of the upper level first.

Rounding a corner, she came across a stretch of rooms that apparently existed for the entertainment of guests. The first room was full of chairs and tarps covering what were probably instruments. The second room had a large window with a view of the countryside and was full of plush seating, probably a place where people were encouraged to drink tea and gossip. Amell was expecting the third room to be a place to gamble—all the aristocracy seemed to have such a place in their homes, if novels and the occasional history text were to be believed—so had merely been planning to poke her head inside and then continue on her way. Instead, her eyes widened at the sight before her, and she felt her heart give an excited leap. Nevertheless, she forced herself to finish her tour, then tracked down Seneschal Varel and asked for his help on a personal matter before she officially began her duties as Warden-Commander. He was a little confused by her request, but nodded, allowing her to return to her room.

Mouse was where she’d left him (he was supposed to be, of course, but she had had the concern in the back of her mind that he’d find some way to break the glyphs), and glaring at her even more for leaving him trapped. Amell knelt down by the table, the better to make eye contact with him.

“Listen to me very carefully, Mouse. I found something here in the Keep that you might appreciate, and I’m willing to let you have it. But you have to be willing to be on good behavior, which means doing some talking. You decide if it’s worth it.”

Mouse remained silent, but she could see a quick glint of curiosity in his eyes. Encouraged, Amell dispelled the wards, then picked up the pouch and held it in her hands rather than attaching it to her hip, carrying it back to that room.

When she pushed open the door, she looked down, wanting to gauge Mouse’s reaction. She saw his eyes widen just like hers had, head turning slowly to take in the rows of bookshelves that made up the Keep’s library. Smiling, she let him drink in the sight for a moment before jostling the pouch to get his attention. Glancing towards the fireplace, she indicated the three servants, who were looking at her curiously. “I’m going to let you stay here instead of in my room, Mouse,” she said, “The servants have been instructed to remove any books related to magic, but otherwise, you’ll be allowed to read whatever books you wish. You’ll still have to come with me whenever I leave the Keep, and I’ll be putting wards on the door so no one can enter or exit until I dispel it, but you’ll have the run of the place. These three will be on hand to fetch you new books and turn the pages for you whenever you tell them to, so you don’t have to waste time trying to do it yourself and running the risk of poking a hole in a key sentence. They’ll rotate out every eight hours, during which time I’ll make sure you aren’t getting into any trouble. Does that sound all right?”

She could see the three servants glancing between themselves, now looking slightly concerned. She could understand why; to them, it looked like their new boss was talking to a common mouse and treating it like a human. The fact that she was a mage probably wasn’t helping matters either. Even the promise she’d given through Varel that they were going to be given more pay and easier work wouldn’t be as appealing when faced with something like this.

She looked down at Mouse to see what _his _reaction was. His eyes were flicking from the servants to her to the bookshelves and back again, and she knew he was weighing things in his mind. The possibility of being surrounded by books and having a lot more freedom to move around must have been tempting, especially since he’d also have people to boss around. But if he kept his silence, he’d make Amell look like a fool and possibly undermine her authority, making her life difficult. She honestly wasn’t sure which impulse of his would win out.

At last, he jerked his head to the side, refusing to meet her eyes, and spoke for the first time in months. “I suppose so. Just try not to interrupt me when I’m in the middle of a particularly engaging chapter.”

The three servants all stared at him, their confusion returning full force. Amell smiled and set the pouch down on one of the end tables that had been strategically placed next to the plush reading chairs. “I’ll do what I can, but darkspawn and matters of state sometimes requite a quick mobilization.”

She looked at the servants. They were undoubtedly going to have questions, and she hoped she’d be able to tell them a believable story without revealing the whole truth. First, though, there was an important question to answer. “Which one of you wants to take the first shift?”


	2. Shifting Dynamics

Amell spent the next two days settling in to her new job. She learned about her expected duties (passing judgment on minor squabbles that happened in her territories and delegating resources, mostly), finished her tour of the Keep, and started giving orders to fortify the walls and create better armor and weapons for the Keep’s soldiers. Along the way, she picked up a new Warden recruit; Nathaniel Howe, the son of the man who had once ruled Amaranthine and who had been the one holding now-Queen Anora captive back in Denerim. He blamed Amell for the death of his father and the loss of the Howe’s lands and respect, but accepted her offer of joining the Wardens in lieu of being executed. Varel gave her a questioning glance when she made that declaration, but she calmly said “The more Wardens we can acquire, the better. Besides, I’m used to having allies who don’t entirely like me.” Varel didn’t push the issue, and instead made preparations for another Joining ritual.

In the midst of all these orders and requests, Amell made sure she visited the library three times a day, as promised. The three servants tasked with looking after Mouse—Gilles, Thera, and Amista—still seemed uncertain about their new duties, but given that they were being paid a gold piece a week to be locked into a library and turn pages for eight hours, they didn’t seem inclined to complain. As for Mouse, he would acknowledge her presence with a glance whenever she entered the room, but dedicated most of his attention to his current book, which he would have propped up against the arm of one of the chairs to make it easier for him to read. Every two minutes, he would snap “Page!” and whichever servant was on duty would hurry over and flip the page for him. It was a comical sight, but Amell knew better than to laugh.

On the third day, Amell decided she needed to head to the town of Amaranthine, both to get a sense of the place and to follow up on some leads that might help shed some light on what new force was controlling the darkspawn. She told the three new Wardens to accompany her, then went to the library to fetch Mouse. Gilles was already waiting by the door, but Amell shook her head. “You and the other two will have a few days off. I have business in Amaranthine.” Then she smiled reassuringly. “You’ll still be paid in full, of course. Make sure to let the others know.”

Gilles beamed and thanked her before departing, and Amell dispelled the barrier she’d cast around the room, walking inside. “Sorry, Mouse,” she said as soon as she’d closed the door behind her, “Duty calls. I’m heading to Amaranthine, and you’re coming with me. You can finish the pages you’re on, but then we need to go.”

Mouse sighed, but obligingly finished his reading and made his way back to his pouch. Amell picked it up and attached it to her hip, then told Amista to have a pleasant day before heading out to meet up with her team.

Amell hadn’t spent a lot of time with her fellow wardens since taking command of the Keep, but hadn’t thought much of it. While she wasn’t on good terms with Howe, she knew Oghren wouldn’t much mind her being busy and Anders would probably enjoy both being away from the Templars and the thought that there was a mage in charge of both the Keep and the Wardens. If she _had _spared a thought for them, she’d figured that leaving them to get to know each other and come to terms with their new abilities and responsibilities without her breathing down their necks would be a benefit rather than a drawback. It was only as they were walking through the courtyard of the Keep that something occurred to her that she hadn’t considered. Oghren had known all of her companions when they’d been combatting the Blight. And when he was drinking (which was often), he had a tendency to talk.

She realized her mistake when Anders said “Is it true that you’ve got a demon under your control? Without being possessed yourself, I mean?”

“Am I allowed to speak for myself?” Mouse asked from his pouch, “Or do you intend to silence me?”

Amell sighed. “I can’t exactly stop you at this point, can I?”

“So it _is _true,” Anders said, and Amell couldn’t tell if he was impressed, horrified, or a bit of both, “How did you manage that? Better yet, how did the Templars not cart you off immediately?”

“She resorted to underhanded tactics, and she just made sure they didn’t know about it. As far as I know, they still don’t.” Mouse answered, and Amell could _feel_ the smug satisfaction radiating off him.

“But you’re harmless, right?” Anders said, “She wouldn’t bring you along unless she trusted you, after all.”

“On the contrary, she drags me around with her because she _doesn’t _trust me.”

“I’ve got him in a position where he can’t do much harm to anyone,” Amell cut in, “But there’s always a chance he’ll find a way to cause damage, so I bring him with me so I can force him to stop. Oghren can tell you that he never caused any trouble during our previous travels.”

“Yeah,” Oghren said, “But he was more like a spirit then. Given that I haven’t seen him outta his mouse form since you defeated the Archdemon, I have to guess something went wrong. No telling how things will go now.”

“You’re not helping, Oghren.” Amell said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“What? I thought Grey Wardens were all about nobility and honor and dung like that.”

“Oh, like the warrior caste you were a part of when you lived in Orzammar?” Mouse asked faux-innocently.

“Watch it, nug-spawn!” Oghren growled, “Keep this up and they might find you floating in a barrel of ale!”

“No they won’t. You’ll probably wind up drinking the evidence, too drunk to notice the change of flavor. Maybe you’ll even like it better that way.”

Amell kept her gaze firmly fixed on the road ahead, wondering if it was too much to hope for another group of darkspawn to attack the keep. Or better yet, if all their activity in the Deep Roads would disturb the surface and cause the ground to open up underneath her.

***

It took them three days to reach Amaranthine, and Amell was pretty sure she only spoke about ten sentences in that time. Then again, it was impossible to get a word in edgewise, with all of her companions sniping at each other. Oghren and Anders kept insulting the other and the overall way of life of dwarves and mages; Mouse made constant jabs at Oghren’s past and drunkenness while Oghren shot back with remarks about Mouse’s helplessness; Anders questioned both Mouse’s power and Amell’s decision to keep him around while Mouse mocked him for never being able to properly escape the Circle until now. Howe was the only one who mostly stayed out of it—he never really rose to Anders’ bait, Oghren seemed fairly respectful of him, and while Mouse poked at the sensitive subject of Arl Howe and his actions, Howe would shut down the conversation after a bit of back-and-forth, clearly knowing it wasn’t wise to let tempers rise too much. If it wasn’t for the fact that he still blamed her for the death of his father and loss of his family’s esteem, Amell would have tried to reach out to him. At the moment, however, she figured it was best to keep her head down.

When they finally came in sight of Amaranthine, Amell took control of the situation by barking “Everyone _shut up!_ We’re Wardens, and we need to give these people faith that we’ll keep them safe. Let’s try to refrain from bickering until we’re in the city proper, shall we?”

Everyone agreed, with only Mouse sounding actively reluctant. Straightening her shoulders and raising her head high, Amell climbed the hill, looking like she at least had the appearance of knowing what she was doing.

After talking to some of the refugees outside the city gates about what was going on (and learning about a tunnel that seemed like a likely place to search for this new breed of darkspawn), Amell and her group finally gained access to the city itself, learning from the captain of the guard that the town was dealing with a smuggling problem. Having been propositioned by a shifty looking man who had mentioned something about finding a good business opportunity at the inn, Amell decided that would be their first official stop, after they’d had a look around the main streets. That actually went pretty smoothly; they found a bustling marketplace happy to barter with them, got more information about the trade caravans that had gone missing in the Wending Wood, and even found Howe’s sister, who went a long way towards making Howe realize the extent of his father’s bad behavior. Amell didn’t think he’d be trusting her anytime soon, especially not after watching her give up on keeping order during the trek to Amaranthine, but perhaps it would be easier to talk to him now.

Just before they entered The Crown and Lion, Amell decided to take a chance. “Mouse,” she said, “Once we’re in the inn, I’ll talk to the innkeeper and see what he knows about the smugglers and other goings on. While I do that, I want you to head upstairs to the rooms and poke around, to see if you can find anything that’ll help. In particular, I want you looking for information about the smugglers, the caravan attacks, the new darkspawn, or the missing Grey Warden Kristoff. If we can, we’ll come up to join you, but if not, we’ll wait outside the inn for you, and you’ll come back to us as soon as you’ve finished looking around. If you take more than an hour, though, I’ll find a way up there, and I _will _expect a good reason for your taking so long. You’re to report on anything you find in regards to those four subjects truthfully, accurately, and concisely. Stay out of trouble, hide or run if threatened, don’t attack anyone, and don’t talk to anyone who isn’t myself, Anders, Oghren, or Howe. Have I made myself clear?”

Mouse sighed heavily, then nodded. “Good,” Amell said crisply, “Then let’s go.”

“But…” Anders began. Amell shot him a glare, and he shut his mouth and followed her inside.

Once Amell had taken a look around the place, she moved towards the fireplace in the corner and deliberately dropped her coin purse. When she knelt to pick it up, she whispered “Go.” to Mouse, and he slipped out of his pouch and hurried into the shadows. Straightening up, she approached the bar, bought a round for the four of them, then engaged the innkeeper in conversation. He didn’t know anything about the smugglers (though Amell noticed the dwarven bartender move a little closer to their end of the bar during that part of the discussion), but he did confirm that Warden Kristoff had taken a room here, and had given every intention of coming back. He was even kind enough to give them permission to take a look at Kristoff’s room, and pointed them in the direction of a waitress who had been pretty friendly with Kristoff before he’d gone missing. Amell thanked him, slipped him some extra silver in thanks, and then took her party off to a corner to finish their drinks before heading upstairs.

Anders took advantage of the opportunity to finish voicing his earlier concern. “Was it wise to give so much responsibility to that demon? How do you know he won’t betray us?”

“Why do you think I gave him such specific orders?” Amell answered, “It gives him less wiggle room to cause trouble. And if I give him more responsibility, he’ll be less inclined to dislike us, and more inclined to cooperate.”

Anders still seemed skeptical, but gave a shrug. “You’re the boss. Just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing.”

He took a swig of his drink and turned his attention to tweaking Oghren for the size of his swallows. Amell sipped her own drink, resisting the urge to glance towards the stairs leading up to the rented rooms. What she’d told Anders was true, but there was more to it than that. Letting Mouse scout around and have a bit more freedom would hopefully be another step towards getting him to trust her again and possibly starting to lose some of his corruption. In addition, if he followed her orders, it would show the other three that she did indeed have control of him, which in turn would make them have faith in her leadership abilities. Of course, it all depended on Mouse doing as she’d asked, and while she’d tried to avoid any potential loopholes, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t find some way to do as he pleased. She could only hope she’d made the right call.

Once they’d finished their drinks, Amell led the way upstairs. First, she chatted with Sorcha the waitress, both to get some more information on Kristoff and to give Mouse a little more time to explore on his own. Then, when Sorcha went back downstairs to tend to her customers, Amell immediately headed for the first door, which _wasn’t _Kristoff’s room. When Howe gave her a questioning look, she just said “I’m the new overseer of these lands. I have the right to go where I please, as long as I have a good explanation for doing so. And in this case, we need information.” Howe’s lip actually quirked upwards at that, and she got the feeling that he approved. Feeling a bit of hope that things were starting to look up, she walked into the room.

The first room didn’t offer up anything of interest, and there was no sign of Mouse. The second room was Kristoff’s room, and while Mouse wasn’t there either, she did find notes on where he was heading, a place called Blackmarsh. Glad to have another lead but starting to get concerned about Mouse’s whereabouts, Amell moved on to the third room.

The first thing she noticed was that this room must have been one of the deluxe ones, since it had what appeared to be a private bath. The second thing that got her attention was the small furry figure sitting next to the bath. “There you are,” she said, stepping forward, “Did you hear us coming and just decide to sit and wa…”

Before she could finish her sentence, Mouse leapt at her and swiped at her ankles, ripping a long tear down her sock. Even as she yelled “Mouse!” she whipped her staff off her back and fired a Cone of Cold, while an Arcane Bolt streaked past her and hit Mouse simultaneously. Mouse let out an almost pitiful screech and collapsed on his side, before his body exploded, spattering the bottom of Amell’s robes with blood. Heart racing, Amell’s eyes darted around. Even with his powers limited by his mouse form, Mouse had taken in a lot of the essence of an Archdemon. If he’d found some way to bypass her orders, he surely would be able to take more damage than that. He was probably hiding somewhere else in the room, waiting to make a more deadly strike. “Spread out and search the room!” she ordered, “And be on your guard. He’s small enough to be anywhere.”

“I’m out here.”

Immediately, another Cone of Cold (courtesy of Anders this time), an arrow, and a Stonefist all were shot at the door of the room, all of which landed on empty floor. Amell heard a yelp, soon followed by Mouse’s indignant voice. “What was _that _for?”

“You know very well what it was for!” Amell said, “I don’t know how you got around my orders not to harm me or my allies, but since you did, I’m going to keep my word and put you down.”

“What are you talking about?” Mouse said, a note of confusion in his angry tone, “I’ve just come back from examining the back rooms.”

“Liar! You attacked me, and when I fought back, you left a dummy body that exploded!”

There was a brief pause, and then Mouse said “I _knew _I sensed something off about that room, which is why I decided to hold off on looking inside. Whatever happened in there, it wasn’t me who attacked you.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Put a paralysis glyph on me and leave one of your illustrious party members to keep an eye on me. You and the other two can then proceed into the back room, where you’ll find several huge barrels of ale, bags of foodstuffs…and right at the very back, a locked trapdoor. That’s probably where the smugglers are operating from. If I’m lying, come back here and do what you want with me.”

Eyes narrowed in suspicion, Amell signaled for Howe to accompany her out of the room. Stepping out of the room, she saw Mouse right by the doorjamb, watching her just as warily as she was watching him. She promptly surrounded him with the paralysis glyph, told Oghren to stay and keep watch, then took Howe and Anders with her to confirm what Mouse had said. Sure enough, she saw all the “landmarks” Mouse had described, and bafflement began to mix in with her anger and anxiety. It was still possible Mouse was playing a trick, but if he _was_ telling the truth…what had just happened back there?

“I told you so,” Mouse said triumphantly, as they came back into the main corridor and Amell signaled for Oghren to loosen his grip on his axe, “I’m innocent.”

“That remains to be seen.” Amell said curtly. Crouching down next to him, she dispelled the glyph and then immediately grabbed him tightly around the abdomen, causing him to yelp again. Carrying his squirming form into the room, she thrust her hand downwards so he could look at the remains of the body. “You’re telling me you had nothing to do with this?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Mouse replied, his voice still indignant but with just a hint of concern lurking in there, “I still have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“As much as I hate to defend him,” Anders piped up, “There is another way to corroborate what he’s saying. I can cast some spells to see if the magical energy of this corpse matches his. If it _is _a duplicate he created, it should be at least fifty percent similar, even if he tried to cover his tracks.”

Amell nodded, and Anders knelt down and started waving his hands over the body. After a few seconds, it started glowing a sickly yellow color. Then Anders stood up and did the same thing to Mouse, who was soon surrounded by a black aura. “They aren’t the same,” Anders concluded, lowering his hands, “Not even close.”

“There, you see?” Mouse said, “Would you mind putting me down now? I think your nails are about to draw blood.”

Amell jammed him into the hip pouch, still unprepared to come down from battlestations. “_If _you aren’t the one responsible for this, then what _is _going on? Ordinary mice don’t explode when they die.”

“Depends on how you kill them.” Anders piped up cheerily.

Amell shot him a quick look before she continued “We didn’t use any sort of spell that would have that effect, so there must be something going on here. Search the room for clues.”

Anders headed for the desk, Howe made a beeline for the chest near the bed, and Oghren started opening drawers. Amell carefully skirted the remains of the other mouse and took a look in the bath. It was hard to see among the dark stones, but after kneeling down to examine them more closely, she could detect traces of blood.

“Commander!” Anders called, and when Amell stood up and turned to him, he was waving some papers. “Whoever rented out this room is an apostate. He’s got letters talking about Circles and various spells.”

“And based on what I just saw, he’s a blood mage,” Amell said grimly, all the pieces coming together in her head, “That mouse must have either been his familiar, or some poor beast he enchanted to ward off intruders, complete with exploding upon death. Anders, give us a Group Heal in case there were any other nasty surprises in that thing. Then let’s get into that trapdoor and deal with the smugglers. Once we’re done with that, we’ll see about finding this blood mage. We’ve got enough to deal with without one of those lurking around.”

Anders nodded reluctantly and cast the spell. While they all waited for the magic to fade, Mouse spoke up.

“You really _were _about to kill me, weren’t you?”

“You sound surprised.”

“After…you chose to spare me, I thought you were blinded by sentimentality. Apparently I was wrong.”

He left it at that, but Amell had heard something in his voice she hadn’t expected to hear for a long time; respect. For her. It didn’t mean he was on the path to redemption, but perhaps his coldness towards her was starting to thaw. There was even a chance he’d start speaking to her properly soon. As long as they didn’t have another close call like this, Amell would welcome this new development.

Once Anders had given them the all-clear, Amell led the way to the trap door, where a combination of Cone of Cold and Stonefist broke the lock and allowed them access to a tunnel. Two minutes later, they emerged into a grotto, full of crates and at least a dozen men, who immediately attacked them. Unfortunately for them, the incident in the inn had put Amell’s team on edge, and taking it out on smugglers was the ideal way to release their stress. Once they were all dead, Amell started searching them for anything she could bring to the guard captain. As she was doing this, she heard Oghren pipe up from somewhere behind her.

“Hey, lookie here. There are some more mice down here with us. Can you understand them, Mouse? You may not have access to most of your powers, but maybe being in that form allows you to understand other pathetic critters.”

Mouse didn’t say anything, and Amell thought maybe he wasn’t going to dignify it with a response. But then he said “Why, yes, I _can _understand them! They’re wondering what foul plague has invaded their home, because they’re suddenly smelling the scent of death! The only question is, are they picking up all of your body odor, or just your breath?”

“Big talk from someone I could have cut in half back in the inn.”

Amell rolled her eyes and continued searching the bodies as Mouse made a retort. Well, at least things were going back to normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter primarily brought to you by the baffling encounter you have at the Crown and Lion (as shown at the start of this Youtube clip; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v-80AAx5SBY). Not only was it weird enough to warrant explanation, it fit perfectly into a world where Mouse is a major character.


	3. Coming to an Understanding...or Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter could also be called "Summing up the three main missions in one gigantic chapter". I apologize in advance for both the length and the extended summary.

Amell, Mouse, and the three other Wardens spent two days in Amaranthine, clearing out the smugglers and other potential dangers, including not one, but four apostate mages. They also had a brief reunion with Wynne, who was glad to see Amell, politely greeted Oghren, and even gave a hesitant nod to Mouse, who didn’t respond verbally but did flick his ears in her direction. Once Amell had decided they’d completed all business that was either of potential import to the Wardens or a risk to the town, she declared they would head back to Vigil’s Keep to give a report and check in on things before heading to that darkspawn tunnel. Perhaps they could discover the source of the trouble there, which would resolve some of their other problems, like the attacks on the trade caravans.

The walk back to the Keep was much the same as the journey there had been. Mouse, Anders, and Oghren continued to trade insults with each other, with Howe being smart enough to mostly stay out of it. Amell, meanwhile, made a mental note to request that Oghren and Anders be transferred to different garrisons as soon as this current crisis was over. It would get Anders away from the Templars, but more importantly, it would make her life a little easier.

When they finally arrived at the Keep, the other three retired to their rooms, while Amell headed to the throne room to give her report. Mouse kept shifting around in his pouch and making exasperated huffing noises the entire time, which everyone ignored as best they could. At last, she was finished, and Seneschal Varel told her there were some matters that had come up while she was gone that required her input. “Gather all the—supplicants?—here in the throne room,” Amell said, “I have a few matters to attend to before I meet with them.” Then, as she started to walk away, she added, “Oh, and tell Thera to report to the library.”

“About time.” Mouse muttered as she left the room.

“My responsibilities are to the Wardens first, the people of Amaranthine second, all of Ferelden third, and you a distant fourth. There may even be a few others who take priority over you and your desire to read books.”

“Isn’t bettering oneself an ideal we should all strive for?” Mouse responded, “It’s why you’re keeping me around, isn’t it? Hoping I’ll change?”

“Maybe so, but we need to be alive in order to better ourselves. In order to do that, I have to deal with matters of state.”

Mouse just made a dismissive noise. Amell brought him to the library, where they found that the book he’d been reading was right where he’d left it. Amell set his pouch on the nearest end table, and Mouse quickly hopped down onto the easy chair, tsking in disapproval. “They didn’t even turn the page in preparation for my return. Very sloppy.”

Amell flipped the page for him. “I wouldn’t advise annoying them, Mouse. If they complain, I may decide to reduce their shifts to six hours instead of eight, and leave you to muddle through those last four hours on your own. Maybe I’ll even force you to leave the library entirely.”

“An idle threat,” Mouse replied, standing up on his hind legs and starting to read, “By your own words, I’m not a priority.”

“Try me, Mouse.” Amell said, “Just remember how quick I was to act at The Crown and Lion.”

Mouse seemed to pause for a moment, then gave an approximation of a shrug. “Perhaps.”

Thera arrived at that moment, and Amell left the room to erect the barrier, knowing she couldn’t linger. After all, she had a public appearance to make, and still needed to freshen up after being on the road. She could only hope that the people coming to her for decisions would be more agreeable than her teammates had been lately.

She spent the rest of that afternoon listening to various grievances and requests, deliberating each case with Varel, and finally pronouncing judgment. She tried to be fair, but given the current darkspawn situation and her unfamiliarity with the people and customs of the region, she wasn’t always sure she’d made the right choices. It didn’t help that she’d been told that the First Warden was taking an interest in how she handled being in charge of Amaranthine. If the people respected the job she and her Wardens did here, the Wardens all across Thedas might gain some standing, which would be helpful when another Blight inevitably came along. When her judgements were finished and she was allowed to retire, she wondered idly how she kept winding up with so much responsibility on her shoulders. Really, there were only three good things to come out of this. She wouldn’t spend her whole life in the Circle; she’d be able to keep her mind and body sharp; and she could safely say that her life wasn’t boring.

***

Amell and her team spent a full day in the Keep, dealing with a passage they’d found in the basement that wound up leading straight to the Deep Roads, then talking with some of the craftsmen who had come to strengthen the Keep. This was also when Amell discovered that Anders had acquired a kitten he’d named Ser Pounce-a-Lot. He seemed to genuinely care about the cat, but given the “joking” comment he made about “having another line of defense against possession”, Amell suspected an ulterior motive. To that end, she made it very clear that Ser Pounce wasn’t allowed to eat Mouse. He (the cat) would have to stay in Anders’ pack or quarters, and would never be allowed anywhere near the library, even with supervision. Anders promised to control Ser Pounce as best as he could, but as he pointed out with a grin “Cats generally aren’t ones to be controlled. Perhaps that’s why I like them; they’re free spirits.” Amell just sighed, figuring she’d done all she could.

Mouse, of course, had a few choice words on the subject when she came to fetch him the next day in preparation for heading to that tunnel. “Flattered as I am that he’s intimidated by me, this is crossing a line. I’m holding both of you responsible if that…_thing_ comes after me. And I expect you to make sure both it and Anders know their place.”

“Who’s bound to who here?” Amell said, tying Mouse’s pouch to her waist, “I’ll do what I can, but Anders is going to enjoy threatening you with it. Then again, given the back-and-forth you two are capable of, I’m sure you can find some way to get back at him. Think of it as a challenge.”

Mouse rose to that challenge very quickly. They were barely out of sight of Vigil’s Keep before he briefly stunned Anders into silence by saying “You know, I once saw a desire demon take the form of a cat. It looked a lot like yours, now that I think about it.” Oghren roared with laughter, Howe sighed deeply, and Amell took advantage of everyone’s distraction to smile.

It took a little over a week to get to the tunnel, with things playing out much the same as they had on all their prior travels. The one difference was that after spending some time with his sister and recovering the family bow during their trip to the Keep’s basement, Howe had softened towards Amell considerably. The two of them were able to chat while the other three were bickering. He seemed interested in what had gone on during the Blight, and Amell welcomed any advice or experience he had with Vigil’s Keep and Amaranthine. And if nothing else, it passed the time a little better than just listening to multiple variations (albeit creative ones) of the same insults.

To Amell’s slight relief, her group stopped poking at each other once they reached the tunnel. Part of this was due to realizing the seriousness of the situation, but some of it was because they quickly gained a new companion. Her name was Sigrun, a dwarf who belonged to the Legion of the Dead, a group tasked with eliminating darkspawn. Her comrades had either been killed or dragged away, and while she had run away to avoid meeting the same fate, she was more than willing to go back and deal with them now that she had backup. Since Anders was mumbling about being claustrophobic, Amell assigned him to guard the entrance, and took the other four down into the Deep Roads once more.

It didn’t take long for things to start playing out the way they had when Amell and her companions had gone through the Roads surrounding Orzammar. Numerous routes and dead ends, an inability to judge the passage of time, travelling and fighting until they were too exhausted to go on. But things were somehow even worse this time. Occasionally, they caught glimpses of what seemed to be ghosts, replaying the last moments of the Thaig before it fell to the darkspawn. There was a new creature to fight, a large grub-like beast that moved surprisingly fast and could do a lot of damage if it managed to jump on someone. While they saw evidence of darkspawn fighting each other, both sides seemed happy to put aside their differences and attack any outsiders who came upon them. It was extremely unpleasant, and all Amell could do was hope they could get through it faster than they had in Orzammar.

It didn’t help that Mouse had decided to engage in a bit of psychological warfare. Amell didn’t know if he was doing it as part of his campaign to rile up Oghren, get back at her for locking him in his mouse form, or something else, but she had to admit he’d known just where to strike. During the first day, they had been on a surprisingly long stretch of road without encountering any enemies. They had also just seen their first ghosts, so there was a feeling of tension in the air, especially whenever they spotted a bend in the road. The group was going around one of these bends when Mouse had spoken up. His voice was quiet, but due to the combination of the acoustics of the stone and the echo Mouse’s voice had developed after absorbing the Archdemon’s power, everyone heard it loud and clear.

“First day they come and catch everyone…”

“_No_,” Amell said immediately, “If you _ever_ start doing that again, I will throw this pouch against the wall, hit you with every paralyzing spell in my arsenal, and then I will let Oghren pound you into paste.”

“Let me do it now!” Oghren snarled, “I don’t even need my axe, I’ll do it with my feet!”

“We can’t kill him for being an ass. If that was all it took, I’d have been justified in killing him, you, and Anders before we even reached Amaranthine.”

Oghren had given Mouse a murderous look and started muttering obscenities under his breath, but had obligingly stalked away. Sigrun and Howe had exchanged confused, nervous looks, but then continued walking. Mouse had merely fallen silent, knowing his work was done. And Amell resumed walking and scanning for enemies, but now the poem Mouse had begun reciting repeated itself over and over in her head. Given Oghren’s increased ferocity when fighting the darkspawn and his overall foul mood, Amell suspected the same thing had happened to him.

In the end, they successfully cleared the Thaig of both factions of darkspawn (hearing things about “The Mother” and “The Architect” along the way), found a shortcut out of the area, and convinced Sigrun to join the Wardens. Emerging into the daylight was an immense relief, both because they were in more familiar territory and because Amell could finally banish the poem from her mind. Oghren also calmed down once they were outside, though perhaps that was due to being able to distract himself by insulting Anders. Mouse, meanwhile, turned his attention to trying to find Sigrun’s weak spot, but she was more curious about him than anything, so he didn’t find much success. After the stunt he’d pulled, Amell was glad of it.

***

After returning to Vigil’s Keep and putting Sigrun through the Joining (she survived, happily), Amell and the others spent two weeks tending to matters in the Keep and Amaranthine, before setting out to the Wending Woods to see what was happening to the trading caravans. This time, Amell brought Anders, Howe, and Sigrun, partly to allow Sigrun to explore the surface and partly to allow Oghren even more distance from Mouse. Oghren had stopped initiating conversations with Mouse, and when Mouse tried, Oghren would respond with swearing and threats until Amell told both of them to knock it off (though she always scolded Mouse more than Oghren). Time apart could only be beneficial for all of them, as far as she was concerned.

Initially, dealing with the woods was far easier than fighting through the Deep Roads. Sure, they still had to fight darkspawn, and now there were wolves and moving trees that came after them, but there was more room to move about and it was a lot easier to see what was coming. They even found the primary source of the caravan attacks; it wasn’t the darkspawn after all, but an elf convinced that humans had killed the rest of her clan. When Amell finally got the elf, Velanna, to calm down, she provided proof (gained during one of the periods when the group had gotten lost and were wandering blindly around the forest) that it was the darkspawn who were responsible for the death of her friends and family. Convinced that her sister was still alive, Velanna begged to join them in tracking down the darkspawn who had done this. Amell agreed on the condition that Velanna leave the woods entirely once they had finished so the caravans could pass in peace, and the group eventually discovered the darkspawn entering and exiting an old silverite mine. Leaving Howe outside to stand watch and pick off any darkspawn who approached, they descended into the mine. They’d barely gotten out of sight of the entrance when they were trapped in a glyph, and caught a brief glimpse of a tall, skeletal figure above them before they were forced to fall asleep.

When Amell awoke, she found herself on the floor of a cell, her gear stripped from her (though she was in simple clothes rather than her smallclothes this time), and her companions in the same cell. Well, almost all of them; it didn’t take long to discover that Mouse was missing. Amell wondered if he’d taken advantage of the opportunity to escape, since she highly doubted he’d be coming to her rescue this time. She just hoped she’d be able to find him. Not only was it unwise to leave him to his own devices, constantly yelling “Mouse, get back here! That’s an order!” would draw too much attention to themselves.

Since they had three mages in the group, Amell had figured they could work together to blast their way out. It turned out to be far easier to escape than that—Seranni, Velanna’s sister, gave them the key and begged them to flee before running off. Of course, Amell wasn’t about to let the darkspawn escape, especially after they’d tried to capture Grey Wardens. Since Sigrun was of the same mind and Velanna wanted to get her sister back, the group agreed to proceed deeper into the mine. Before doing that, however, they poked around the prison, looking for their old equipment. Going through a set of double doors, they were met with a surprise. Instead of the torture chamber Amell had half-expected, the room was full of bookshelves and tables covered with vials and miscellaneous objects. As she was looking around in bewilderment, a familiar voice piped up.

“I was wondering when you’d finally show up to rescue me.”

Just as Anders started to groan, a mew distracted him, and he rushed over to the tables, where Ser Pounce-a-Lot was lying in a small cage. There was an even smaller cage next to it, and when Amell walked over, Mouse was staring at her through the bars. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“Mostly,” Mouse acknowledged, shooting a glare over at Ser Pounce, who Anders was now cuddling and cooing over, “That beast kept swatting at me and shaking the cage, and I think the darkspawn extracted some blood from me, if the soreness in my side is any indication.”

“Did you see anything that could help us?”

Mouse shook his head. “I only came to briefly, and the room was empty when I woke up properly. After that, I was distracted by the cage rattling every thirty seconds.”

Amell sighed. “It was worth asking. Clearly there’s _something _going on here, and the faster we can get answers, the better. I guess the only way to find them is to head back into the mines.”

She picked up the cage and some twine from the desk and started to attach it to her hip. “Couldn’t you just let me out?” Mouse asked, “It’s not particularly comfortable in here.”

“Anders already let Ser Pounce out, and doesn’t have a place to put him. Do you really want to be loose at the same time the cat is?”

Mouse shuddered. “You have a point. Just let me out as soon as we get my pouch back.”

“I might,” Amell replied, “But then again, I’m still not happy with what you did in the Deep Roads. Maybe having to stay in there will teach you a lesson.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

She was pretty sure Mouse was glaring at her, but he fell silent and allowed her to finish hanging the cage from her hip. Once she thought the cage was secure enough, she motioned to her team. “Let’s take a quick look around here to see if we can find any clues, and then we’ll get moving.”

It soon became clear that someone was experimenting on darkspawn, which would explain their being able to talk. Said experiments also involved blood, which made Amell a bit nervous; if they had a sample of Mouse’s blood, there was a chance they had some of the Archdemon’s essence. To be on the safe side, she had everyone gather up all the vials in the room and set them in a pile on the floor. Then they walked to the double doors, and Amell cast a fireball at the vials before shutting the doors behind her. Everyone seemed satisfied by the destruction, which at least was good for morale.

Several bouts of fighting eventually got them their gear back, and they took turns hiding behind a corner to change. When it was Amell’s turn, she told Mouse that she’d put him back in his pouch once they’d left the mines, just to show him that she was capable of carrying out her threats. “And I’ll be keeping the cage and key,” she added, “Just in case you start acting out in the future. Keep that in mind whenever you start going a little too far with your jibes.”

Mouse grumbled, but the message had clearly been received, because he kept relatively quiet for the rest of the time in the mines. Along the way, the group caught another glimpse of the skeletal figure, now revealed to be the Architect, before he sent two dragons after them. By the time the dragons had been killed, the Architect had vanished, along with Seranni. Velanna all but begged to be allowed to join the Wardens in order to rescue her sister, and Amell agreed, since doing so would swell the Wardens ranks, stop the attacks on the caravans, and possibly soften Velanna’s attitude towards humans. They made their way out of the mine, reunited with Howe (who had been concerned, but told them they’d only been gone for a day), and started looking for the main path that would lead them back to Amaranthine. And true to her word, Amell finally let Mouse out of his cage, making a show of putting the cage and key in her pack. While he gave her another glare and made sure to prick her with his claws as she transferred him to his pouch, he did stay quiet for a good part of the walk. It was only when Anders started fussing over Ser Pounce again that Mouse decided to start up his insults once more. “At least I was deemed important enough to take blood from. They were probably going to use that creature as a test subject. Or perhaps for food.”

Anders gasped, pressed Ser Pounce close to his chest, and gave Amell a pleading look. “Can’t you put him back in his cage for being so cruel?”

“Somehow, I don’t think that would shut him up. Besides, why would I deprive both of you of your favorite way to pass the time?”

Anders sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Don’t listen to the meanie, Ser Pounce-a-Lot,” he added, speaking in the sing-song tone Amell had sometimes used on her Mabari during the peaceful moments at camp, “You’re much bigger and handsomer than he is.”

As Mouse responded with “And I’m handsomer than you. What’s your point?”, Amell caught sight of Velanna grimacing, clearly wondering what she had just gotten herself into. Amell gave her a sympathetic look, but decided not to say anything. Given Velanna’s temper, she’d be getting into the swing of things soon enough.

***

After another week of dealing with matters in the Keep and in town, Amell figured they should head to Blackmarsh to see if they could track down Kristoff, since no one had seen or heard from him in all this time. For this excursion, she brought Howe (familiarity with the area), Velanna (knowledge of nature), and Sigrun. She had no particularly good reason for choosing Sigrun over Anders or Oghren—none of them had skills that looked like they’d help in this particular situation—but given that Sigrun didn’t rise to Mouse’s bait, Amell was hoping there was a chance she’d get a break from endless bickering. While she did get some amusement out of the back-and-forth, she’d appreciate the opportunity to have a normal conversation every now and then.

Her efforts turned out to be semi-successful. While there were stretches where she was able to talk with Sigrun about surface life, Howe about Amaranthine life, and Velanna about magic, Mouse made sure there was at least one part of the day dedicated to trading barbs with Velanna. He’d figured out quickly that she had a myriad of weak spots, and clearly took delight in figuring out which ones were the best to poke at. Velanna alternated between insulting him right back, spluttering in rage, or threatening to set him on fire. Despite that, Amell believed it was the most peaceful walk she’d had in a long time.

Things turned more serious almost as soon as they entered the marsh. Both Amell and Velanna immediately detected heavy amounts of magic in the air, and as they walked through the marsh and the long abandoned town within, they came across greenish barriers that almost crackled with Fade energy. Howe said that there were stories of magic killing the town, and Amell could absolutely believe it. Even so, she somehow didn’t prepare herself for what happened shortly thereafter.

While looking around the outskirts of the town, the group came across the body of a human, and when Amell saw that he had papers with the seal of the Wardens on it, she knew they’d found Kristoff. She’d barely said as much to the rest of her team when a darkspawn showed up, speaking of “The Mother”. Before any of them could move to attack it, it released a ball of energy that seemed to blur their vision and freeze them in place, and when Amell discovered she could move again, she realized immediately that they had been pulled into the Fade. On the bright side, the darkspawn had come along with them, which it clearly hadn’t been expecting. Amell and Velanna immediately threw spells at it, but Howe and Sigrun were still trying to get their bearings, so it ran off and left its minions to deal with them. Once they’d killed said minions, Amell looked around and realized there was a recreation of the marsh town in the distance, looking well-kept and inhabited. It seemed as good a place as any to try to find answers and a means of escape.

Along the way, they found themselves having to fight a group of wraiths. Upon defeating them, Velanna dusted off her hands, then called over her shoulder. “Offended that I’ve just killed some of your kind, demon? Or happy that you have less competition?”

Mouse didn’t respond, which Velanna considered a victory, so she moved on down the path. Amell, on the other hand, looked down at him to take stock. Mouse had run his mouth so much in the past month that _not _answering suggested something was very wrong.

Sure enough, Mouse was huddled in a corner of his pouch, his whole body compressed to try to make himself as small as possible. His eyes were screwed closed, and his ears were flicking back and forth, apparently trying to pick up every noise. When Amell looked closer, she realized he was shaking, and since the Fade was its usual comfortable temperature, she knew it didn’t have anything to do with cold. “Mouse?” she said softly. Mouse flinched, but otherwise didn’t answer her. Amell decided not to push the issue at the moment and continued on, only peering into the pouch after every battle to make sure he was still there.

Upon reaching the town, pieces started to fall into place, at least in regards to what had happened there. Long ago, the town had been under the control of a mage known as “The Baroness”. This Baroness had taken to stealing children to preserve her youth and strength, and when the town rebelled against her, she’d used her magic to pull them all into the Fade. Confronting her seemed like the best way of returning to the mortal world, so Amell and her group made their way towards the center of town.

It seemed that they weren’t the only ones who had had that idea. A spirit was rallying the townsfolk outside the gates to the Baroness’ manor. When questioned, he explained he was a spirit of justice, and had finally decided to intercede on behalf of the town. Amell was happy to join in his cause, but when he suggested kicking the gates down, Amell held up her hand.

“We should be careful. If she’s been locked in there for decades, who knows what sort of traps or Fade creatures she’s gathered to protect her. We could rush inside only to be slaughtered.”

“What do you suggest, then?” the spirit asked.

“We get someone to scout the perimeter for us. And I know just who to use for the job.”

“_No!_” Came a frantic cry from her pouch, causing everyone, including her teammates, to stare at her hip in surprise. Amell looked down and saw Mouse staring up at her, shaking even harder, eyes wide with fear. “Please…” he said, softer this time, “Don’t…”

“What’s wrong, Mouse?” Amell asked, “The Baroness is undoubtedly powerful, but I think we’ll be able to take her. Besides, I never thought you of all pe—things would be afraid of something like this.”

“I’m not afraid of her!” Mouse snapped immediately, a bit of his old self returning.

“But you’re afraid of _something_,” Amell said, “You’ve been dead silent ever since we entered the Fa…”

It all clicked at that moment. Amell smiled reassuringly and reached into the pouch. Mouse squirmed away and scratched at her hands, but she still caught hold of him and pulled him out, lifting him up so he could look her directly in the eyes.

“Mouse,” she said gently, “Scout the outside of the Baroness’ manor. Peer in the windows if you can to get a sense of what’s inside, then come back and accurately report what you saw. We’ll wait right here for you until you come back. You have my word that we won’t leave the Fade without you.”

Mouse stopped struggling and looked at her intently, even as his body continued quivering. “Your word?”

“As a Grey Warden and the Hero of Ferelden.”

Mouse took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then he nodded. “All right.”

Amell brought him up to the gates and stood on her toes, placing him on the decorative whorl in the gates that was the easiest point of entrance. “Good luck.”

Mouse looked back at her. “Keep your word.” he said, and then vanished from sight.

The spirit looked at her curiously. “I sense familiar energies from that creature. He is a demon, is he not? And yet he seems tied to you. Why would you ally yourself with such a fiend?”

“It’s complicated,” Amell responded, “But rest assured, just because I have a bond with a demon doesn’t mean I don’t want to do what’s right. I will help you and these people get justice.”

“That remains to be seen,” the spirit said, “It is hard to trust someone who keeps company like that. However, I shall give you a chance to prove yourself.” Amell nodded her thanks and sat down near the gate to wait.

Since it was hard to tell the passage of time in the Fade, Amell didn’t know how long Mouse was gone. All she knew was that after a relatively long stretch, she heard a voice overhead call out “Warden.” and she looked up to see Mouse perched on the whorl. She stood on her toes again and brought him down. “Well?”

“There are no glyphs or other traps outside as far as I can see or sense. I got a look inside, and the Baroness has two ash wraiths, a human, and that darkspawn that brought us here with her. That’s all I saw, though there could be more.”

Amell nodded. “I think we can handle that.” She looked over at the spirit. “We should be ready now.”

As the spirit gave a speech to rally the townsfolk, Amell looked down at Mouse with a smile. “Well done.”

“Just put me back in my pouch.” Mouse said curtly.

“If you really want to make sure you’re not left behind, why not my pauldron? It will be easier for me to tell if you fall out of that. In fact, it’ll probably be harder for you _to _fall out of that.”

Mouse hesitated, then nodded. “Very well.”

Amell pulled the pouch open for the first time in months, and Mouse climbed inside. Just as she released her grip, the spirit kicked the door open, and the assault on the manor was on.

After a bit of posturing on the Baroness’ part, Justice engaged in combat with her, while Amell, her team, and the townsfolk went after the darkspawn and wraiths (the one human went down within seconds). In the end, the Baroness, realizing she was outnumbered, drew on the darkspawn’s essence and cast a spell, knocking Amell to the ground and obscuring her vision. When she felt a blast of cool air against her skin, she knew they’d returned to the real world. When she felt something move inside her pauldron, she knew Mouse had made the journey back with them, and smiled in satisfaction.

Mouse wasn’t the only Fade denizen who’d made the trip, however. The spirit of justice had apparently been caught in the Baroness’ spell, and because spirits needed bodies to survive outside the Fade, he’d shot straight into Kristoff’s corpse. Despite being confused by his situation, he focused his attention on his task; the Baroness had returned to the human world as well, and he suspected her time in the Fade had twisted her into a pride demon. He wanted to deal with this situation before it became a bigger problem, (especially since there were now active rips in the Fade that the Baroness could potentially draw from) and Amell was inclined to agree. Sigrun was rattled from her experience in the Fade (since dwarves didn’t have the same connection to it that most races did), so Amell agreed to let her return to Kristoff’s camp and compose herself while the rest of them dealt with the tears in the Fade and then took on the Baroness.

The Baroness was back by the remains of her manor, gloating over having reached the mortal world and how she planned to subjugate it. She spotted Amell and her team and declared that they would be the first to fall. Before any of them could respond to that, Mouse shot out of Amell’s pauldron and perched on her shoulder. “I’d like to see you try.” he said, and Amell felt her blood run cold. She’d mostly grown accustomed to the echo in his voice, but there was a new note in it now, something that tapped into the supernatural power he’d absorbed. Furthermore, his voice was dripping with venom. Even at his most bitter, he’d _never _had that tone when talking with Amell or any of her teammates. Now that the danger of being left behind in the Fade had passed, his fear was clearly being replaced by anger, and it was probably for the best that he used the Baroness to expend it.

The Baroness laughed. “Do you expect me to tremble at the sight of you, little rodent?”

“Not at the sight of me,” Mouse conceded darkly, “But the feel. You don’t deserve the title of pride demon if you can’t sense the power of those around you.”

The Baroness’ eyes narrowed, then widened in surprise. “You are indeed more powerful than your form would suggest. You may even be as powerful as me.”

Mouse laughed, and Amell’s skin crawled at the sound. “Spoken like a true pride demon,” he said, “Convinced of your superiority, but too arrogant to admit when someone has the potential to best you. I’m better than you, and I always will be.”

“Then prove it, rodent,” the Baroness said, her expression haughty but a clear note of hesitation in her voice, “Let us fight for control of this realm.”

“Would that I could,” Mouse said, “But I don’t believe I’ll be given that chance. Besides, it’s almost more satisfying to see you destroyed by the very mortals you belittle.”

“What do you…” the Baroness began, then let out a shriek of pain. It was only then that Amell realized that the justice spirit had crept around behind the Baroness while she’d been distracted by Mouse and had plunged his sword into her back. She was too powerful for that to kill her outright, but before she could recover from it, Amell and Velanna both threw spells at her, and Howe let loose a volley of arrows. The Baroness died before she could even attempt to transform into her demon form.

As soon as the spirit pronounced her dead, Mouse rushed down Amell’s body and hurried to the Baroness’ corpse, looking straight into her lifeless eyes. “_Roestin Hael, batchor_.” he intoned, the unfamiliar words causing Amell to shudder and gooseflesh to rise on her arms. Then he spat in the Baroness’ face and turned back to Amell. “Shall we go?” he said, his voice returning back to his usual slightly sarcastic tone.

Amell picked him up immediately and placed him into her hip pouch, not wanting him to direct that sort of ire at her. “What about him?” Howe asked, gesturing to the spirit in Kristoff’s body.

“I don’t think there’s any way for me to return to the Fade, especially since we closed the tears,” the spirit said, “Perhaps I can remain here and clear out any remaining demons, to ensure the curse of the Baroness is gone for good.”

“Or you could come with us,” Amell said, “You’ve taken over the body of a Grey Warden, and those are in short supply at the moment. You say you have some of Kristoff’s memories; perhaps you can use that to see how our goals and your align.”

The spirit considered, then nodded. “I can. If you will have me, I will join your fight against these darkspawn.”

“Welcome to the Wardens, then,” Amell said, “Though I believe we should call you something other than Kristoff.”

“Justice will be sufficient. It is what I embody, and it will do for a name.”

“Very well, Justice. Come along with us; if the information I’ve found here in the marsh is correct, there’s some magic connected to a dragon skeleton that we should probably dispell before we go.”

***

Dealing with the dragon was a tough fight, and by the time the group emerged triumphant, night was falling. It was decided the group would spend the night in Kristoff’s old camp, and then set out for Vigil’s Keep in the morning. Still full of adrenaline from the fight, Amell agreed to take first watch.

For about an hour, things were quiet. Then Mouse spoke up from his pouch.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Amell responded, already suspecting the answer.

Mouse climbed out of his pouch and sat on the log beside her. “Why didn’t you leave me behind? It would have made sense to relieve yourself of me. Anyone else in your position would have done so without a second thought, but it seems like that never even crossed your mind.”

“You’re smart, Mouse,” Amell said, “I think you can figure out some of the reasons why.”

“I suppose I can,” Mouse said, “But…I think I’d rather hear them directly from you.”

“All right,” Amell said, “In the first place, releasing a pride demon with at least some of the power of an Archdemon or Old God inside it back into the Fade sounds like a _very _bad idea, both for the Fade and for the mortal world. Secondly, the minute I broke the bond with you, there was every chance you’d turn into your pride demon form and go after us for all the ‘humiliation’ you’ve suffered. Perhaps you’d even have sided with the Baroness to rub it in.”

Mouse chuckled. “I suspect I would have been tempted, yes. I’d almost certainly have turned on her immediately afterwards, though.”

“Thirdly, even if the first two weren’t concerns of mine, letting you go would be like giving up on you. And you should know me well enough by now to know that I can be very stubborn.”

“Which I still insist will be your downfall.”

Amell smiled. “Keep insisting; it helps prevent me from making that fatal mistake. There’s one more reason I didn’t do it.”

“And what would that be?”

“Even if the thought _had _occurred to me, I’d have pushed it away the second I saw your reaction. You were _terrified_, so much so that you were actually willing to beg. And I try not to do things that will cause my friends pain.”

“‘Friends?’” Mouse repeated skeptically.

“Allies, if you prefer,” Amell said, “But I think we were friends once. I keep hoping we can get that back.”

Mouse chuckled again. “Unlikely. Although I would have said my becoming a spirit was unlikely as well. Stranger things have happened, I suppose.”

A gust of wind blew through, and Mouse shuddered. A moment later, Amell saw his whiskers quiver in the firelight. “_Ipshii! Tikshh!_”

Now it was Amell’s turn to chuckle. “Swift healing.”

Mouse groaned and climbed back into his pouch. “I hope your watch ends soon. The chill here is seeping into me, and I’d rather avoid getting a cold if I can help it.”

“You’ll have a better chance of warding off the cold if you go back into my pauldron.”

Mouse shook his head. “That was from a different time. I wouldn’t feel comfortable there.”

“If you insist,” Amell said, turning to stoke the fire, “But I think I’ll keep that pouch around. I’ll save it for a friend.” Mouse just scoffed, but she would almost have called it affectionate instead of dismissive. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking.

Unfortunately for Mouse, the cold and the emotional swings he had been through had taken their toll. By noon the next day, he was sneezing every two minutes, and a quick touch confirmed he had a slight fever. Even though Velanna had the skills to craft a fever reducer, they didn’t have the ingredients for it, so Mouse would have to cope without it (though given his hatred of the taste, he didn’t seem inclined to complain). The best Amell could do was stick a handkerchief in the pouch for him and then cover Mouse with a glove from her pack to provide a little extra warmth. Everyone else in her party seemed surprised by the amount of care she was showing to him, but knew better than to question her.

When the group finally returned to Amaranthine, Amell’s first order of business (after an extremely awkward encounter with Kristoff’s wife in the courtyard) was to order a fever reducer made and a vial of it sent to the library. Telling Varel that she would tend to any matters of state or Warden business in an hour or so, she then told him to call Gilles, Thera, and Amista before heading straight for the library. When she arrived, she stoked the fire until it was at full blaze, then set Mouse’s latest book on the end table and sat down in the chair, undoing the hip pouch and setting it in her lap. “How are you doing, Mouse?”

Mouse sniffled thickly. “Just fine. Can’t you tell?”

Amell reached out and lightly pressed a finger to Mouse’s head, grimacing at the warmth she felt. “Of course you are. Though I’m sure you won’t mind if I give you some things to help make sure you keep feeling fine.”

“I don’t think I can stop y-you,” Mouse said, voice stuttering before he put his nose to the handkerchief, “_Hipchh! Hifshh!_”

“Swift healing,” Amell said, “And in this case, you’re right.”

The three servants arrived at that moment. Amell instructed them to go through the keep and gather up any clean and warm scraps of cloth they could find, then pile them up on the hearth. Since this was a relatively normal order for them, they obeyed without hesitation. Shortly after they left, another servant arrived with the fever reducer. Mouse groaned at the sight of it. “Just drink it quickly,” Amell said, “And then hopefully you won’t have to take it again.”

Mouse sighed, but allowed her to bring the vial to his mouth. Four deep gulps later, the vial was empty and Mouse was coughing violently. It only ended when he was forced to sneeze again, the sound a little louder than it normally was as a result. “_Hit-CHISHH!!_”

“Swift healing,” Amell said sympathetically, “Do you want to do some reading?”

“Yes, but my head’s sore and fogged at the moment. I’m not sure how much I’d get out of it.”

“I can help with that,” Amell said, picking up the book and settling it on her lap, “You left off at the top of the left page?”

“Er…yes.” Mouse said, clearly a bit confused. Amell gave the pouch a reassuring pat and then started to read aloud. Once he realized her intent, Mouse shifted position so that his head was resting outside the pouch, close to the book, only pulling his head in briefly to catch his sneezes in the handkerchief. Amell smiled at the sight and kept reading.

Four pages in, the servants arrived with the cloth she’d asked for. Asking Amista to stay and dismissing the other two, Amell gave instructions to make a nest from the scraps, with the largest piece to be set aside as a blanket. Amista set to work, and Amell glanced down at Mouse to see what he thought. Mouse lifted his head just enough to see what was happening, then gave a brief nod and put his head back on Amell’s leg. She nodded back and resumed reading. Not two pages later, Mouse stopped sneezing, and when Amell glanced down at him, she saw that he’d fallen asleep. She smiled again and set the book aside, waiting for Amista to finish.

When the nest was ready, Amell gently pulled Mouse out of the pouch and brought him over to the hearth, setting him inside the cloth pile and placing the handkerchief beside it so he’d have access to it when he woke up. “Better stay on duty just in case,” she told Amista softly, “Who knows when he’ll wake up. If he doesn’t seem up for reading, read to him.”

“Yes, Warden-Commander.” Amista said with a bow of the head before moving away. Amell began to cover Mouse with the “blanket”, then stopped and squinted at him, feeling a tiny spark of hope in her chest. After confirming what she saw, she put the blanket over him, then stood up and left to freshen up before holding court, that spark warming her veins.

It was entirely possible that it was just a trick of the firelight. But Amell would have sworn that she had seen shades of brown among the black in Mouse’s fur.


	4. Taking Stands

Amell had assumed she could spend a week at Vigil’s Keep to allow Mouse to recover before they decided what to do about the darkspawn. After all, one advantage of being in charge of both Amaranthine and the Keep was that she could find plenty of excuses to stay in the Keep if she so desired as long as there wasn’t an obvious crisis that required her attention. Given the upheaval Ferelden had been going through, however, she probably should have expected a crisis to arise.

Three days after returning from Blackmarsh, Amell was presiding over an assembly of nobles who wanted to know what she was planning on doing about the increasing number of darkspawn in the region. Just as she was trying to calm down the current speaker by saying that panic would get them nowhere, a woman, with perfect timing, burst into the assembly and announced that a darkspawn army had been seen marching towards Amaranthine. It would be impossible to mobilize all of the Keep’s forces in time, but a small group could probably hurry there and do their best to minimize the damage. With little time to lose, Amell selected Justice, Howe, and Velanna to accompany her, then rushed off to the library to retrieve Mouse. In other circumstances, she might have taken a chance and left him behind to continue convalescing, but as there was no telling how this fight would turn out, it was safer to keep him by her side. Even with the evidence that he was starting to lose his corruption, it was better not to take chances.

Rest and warmth had done a lot to improve Mouse’s health, but it was clear he hadn’t returned to full strength. Not only had the servants reported that he would spend part of their shift sleeping, but he was still sneezing fairly frequently. On the bright side, the fever reducer had done its job, and he hadn’t required another dose. His head had also cleared enough for him to be able to read, because when Amell threw the door open after dispelling the ward, Mouse was sitting on his usual chair, paws pressed against his book. The only indications that he wasn’t entirely well were the handkerchief set next to the book and the “blanket” that had been fashioned into a semi-cloak so he could move about and still stay warm.

“Amaranthine’s under attack,” Amell said by way of explanation when both Thera and Mouse looked up in surprise at her abrupt entrance, “We’ve got to go, _now_.”

Mouse sighed, but obligingly stepped away from the book. Amell snatched up his pouch, attached it to her hip, then quickly set Mouse and the handkerchief inside it before rushing out again. “I wouldn’t suggest keeping this pace up,” Mouse said, “You’ll lose all your strength before you’re even halfway to the city.”

“We’ll slow down once we’re on the road,” Amell said curtly, “And why do you care? You’re not the one walking.”

“I just don’t want to be crushed if you collapse from exhaustion,” Mouse replied, “It wouldn’t be a particularly dignified way to…_dipshh! Ikshh!_” Amell shook her head and didn’t bother with a response, instead rejoining her team and giving orders to set out.

By moving at a quick but steady pace, Amell and her group managed to reach Amaranthine in a day and a half, arriving just as the sun began to go down. They were greeted by the captain of the guard, who reported that the city had already been swarmed and was in bad shape. As if that wasn’t bad enough, one of the talking darkspawn appeared, saying it was an emissary from the Architect. It claimed that the forces attacking the city came from the faction led by the Mother, and that she had sent a second army to attack Vigil’s Keep. The Architect had sent the messenger in order to gain the trust of the Wardens. The captain of the guard and Captain Garevel both suggested hurrying to protect the Keep and burning Amaranthine to ash to deal with the darkspawn inside, since they thought the city was beyond saving. Amell was horrified by the suggestion, and forced herself to think about it for a minute. They only had the word of this darkspawn and the Architect that the Mother was attacking the Keep. The Keep had been fortified and armed, and had three Wardens there to defend it, while Amaranthine had much less protection. Above all, she not only had a responsibility to this town, but to the Wardens; if she let the city burn, people would probably think the Wardens only cared for themselves and not for others, and their reputation would be tarnished again. When she considered it in that light, there was only one choice to make.

“We stay in Amaranthine,” she said, “I have faith in the people of the Keep to defend it.”

Velanna and Howe initially disagreed, but Amell was able to convince them that this was the right choice. The darkspawn messenger also didn’t agree with her, but she silenced it with a curt “You want me to trust you and the Architect? Then you abide by my decision. And to further prove your good intentions, you’ll fight alongside us to take back this city.” It reluctantly backed down, and Amell gave orders for everyone to fan out and start bringing down the darkspawn, with the messenger accompanying her team so it wouldn’t be mistaken for one of the enemy.

As they entered the city and headed for the marketplace, Mouse spoke up, having been quiet throughout all the deliberations. “I’m not sure if I should applaud your ruthlessness in leaving your fellow Wardens to die or abhor your nobility in fighting for a lost cause.”

“Make up your mind after we’ve tried driving out the darkspawn,” Amell answered, not even bothering to glance down at him, “Perhaps your opinion will change if we succeed.”

“And what of the messenger? Shall he be joining our ragtag group as…_hikshh! Ipshh!_”

“I doubt it. I have my hands full as it is. Now be quiet and let us _try _to win this lost cause.” Mouse obligingly shut up, just as they came in view of the market and spotted a group of darkspawn.

To everyone’s surprise (including Amell’s, though she never would have admitted it), the small handful of forces on hand were able to kill all the darkspawn in the city. There was news that another wave were on the way, but they at least had a day to rest and prepare. Once Amell and her group had looked over the fortifications and made plans, they went to the Chantry where the other survivors had gathered to try to get a few hours’ sleep (though the darkspawn messenger was told to stay outside). While there, Howe spoke with his sister again, and Justice managed to help Kristoff’s wife come to terms with what had happened to her husband. Amell, on the other hand, cast a few healing spells on those who were only mildly injured, then found a relatively quiet corner. She removed Mouse’s pouch and cast a paralysis glyph on it, then lay down and almost immediately fell asleep.

She was awoken not three hours later by a commotion; a soldier burst into the Chantry and reported that the darkspawn were entering the city via the smuggler’s tunnel they’d discovered in the Crown and Lion. Astonished and irritated that the city guard had dealt with the smugglers but not the tunnel itself, Amell groggily roused herself and prepared to fight again. As she was assembling her team, Howe said “It’s started to rain, Commander. You may wish to find something to shield your…companion.”

“Why, Howe, I didn’t know you cared.” Mouse said, as Amell started looking around for something to cover the top of the pouch.

“I don’t,” Howe responded, “But if it keeps you from complaining about the cold and wet, and reduces the chance of your illness getting worse and your complaining about _that_, I’ll find a way to help.”

Mouse huffed, but it sounded almost amused. Amell found a tattered cloak and tore off a large strip with no holes in it, wrapping it around the pouch in such a way that would hopefully minimize the amount of water that fell inside. Then she picked up her staff and gestured for the other three to follow her to the inn.

Four _more _hours of fighting finally saw the group victorious. The townsfolk had suffered quite a few losses, but it was nowhere near as bad as the captain of the guard had initially thought. As Amell was listening to the various reports, a runner came from Vigil’s Keep to confirm what the darkspawn messenger had said; it _was_ under attack. Since the messenger had also told them the location of the Mother, Amell decided to send Garevel and his men back to the Keep, while she and the other Wardens confronted the Mother. The messenger was released to report to the Architect that Amell was wary, but more inclined to listen to anything he had to say, and after replenishing her supply of poultices and ingredients for lyrium potions, Amell and her group set out for a place called the Dragon Bone Wastes.

Some ways into the trek, the rain finally stopped. Once Amell was sure it wouldn’t be returning in the near future, she untied the strip of cloak from around Mouse’s pouch. “How are you holding up, Mouse?”

“I suppose I could be worse,” Mouse grudgingly admitted, “I’m somewhat warm and relatively dry.” He then sneezed twice and added “I can’t say the same about this handkerchief, though.”

Amell cast a drying spell on both the handkerchief and the pouch, then turned her attention back to the road. As she tucked the bit of cloak into her pack in case she needed it later, Mouse spoke again, only this time it was soft enough that only she could hear.

“I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised you won. If you could defeat the Blight, saving a city is nothing in comparison. I still think you’re a fool, though.” Amell just chuckled and shook her head.

***

It took two and a half days to reach the Wastes, and the journey there was simultaneously peaceful and tension filled. While everyone was apprehensive about what they would find there, they didn’t run into any darkspawn on the way. Furthermore, that apprehension kept Amell’s companions from sniping at each other, so they could focus their attentions on moving quickly rather than coming up with retorts. Even Mouse was quiet, though Amell wasn’t sure if it was because he felt the same as the rest of them or if it was related to his illness. He wasn’t showing signs of fever, but he was still sneezing, and his voice was noticeably congested whenever he spoke. But as long as he wasn’t causing trouble, Amell was content to leave him to his own devices as she prepared herself for whatever lay ahead.

When they finally found the Wastes, they also discovered why the walk had been so quiet; all of the darkspawn had been called back to defend the Mother. They also found themselves battling a dragon at one point. Even so, the four Wardens were able to cut through their opposition and make their way deeper into the Wastes…at which point things somehow got even more complicated. First, Velanna found her sister again, who praised the Architect before disappearing once. Then, the Architect himself appeared, asking to parley. After what she’d told the messenger, Amell felt compelled to hear him out. He explained that he was attempting to end the cycle of Blights by giving the darkspawn minds of their own, though he needed Warden blood in order to do so. The Mother was the result of one of his experiments gone wrong, and unquestionably needed to be defeated. He had gathered enough Warden blood from his attack on Vigil’s Keep (a misunderstanding, he said, swearing he had had nothing to do with the most recent assault) that he could go underground and continue his work for some time, assuming Amell would allow him to do so.

Amell had to consider the matter carefully. Trusting darkspawn wasn’t in the nature of Wardens, but the messenger _had _kept its word. And the possibility of ending the Blights for good was a tempting one. The only question was, would it be worth taking the risk of the Architect’s creating another Mother, or the whole thing being a lie?

Then Mouse’s pouch vibrated against her hip as he shifted position, and it reminded Amell of all the choices she’d made over the past two years. Sparing an assassin who’d been sent to kill her. Turning Loghain, her initial enemy, into a Grey Warden. Taking on anyone who was willing to become a Warden for the sake of bolstering the order. Above all, she’d not only bound a demon to her to gain his knowledge of the Fade and the Blight, she’d kept him alive after he’d absorbed the power of an Archdemon because she thought he could be saved. With that in mind, the answer was clear.

“All right. Go. We’ll take care of the Mother.”

Justice was displeased by this, though Velanna was in favor and Howe didn’t say anything one way or the other. The Architect bowed his head to her. “Thank you,” he said in his whispery voice, “You are as reasonable as I hoped your brethren would be.” Then his eyes flicked to the side. “If I could ask one more thing of you…”

“You can’t take any of our blood,” Amell said immediately, “We need to be at our best if we want to have any chance of defeating the Mother.”

“No,” the Architect said, “As I said, I have enough blood to sustain my experiments. However, there was one avenue of exploration I wanted to pursue.”

Amell heard a quiet “Fuck.” from her hip, and suddenly knew _exactly _what the Architect was about to say. Sure enough, he gestured at Mouse’s pouch and continued;

“Your companion has a great deal of power inside him, as well as corruption. Perhaps using his blood would yield better results. I never got the chance to test this, as my initial sample was…destroyed.”

“No.” Amell said flatly, putting her hand over the pouch and taking a step backwards, “You aren’t taking him with you, and I’m not letting you take another sample. His power is too volatile to be trusted with anyone else. Putting it inside darkspawn could only lead to disaster.”

“I would take every precaution…” the Architect began.

“I said no,” Amell said, her tone becoming sharp, “Get out of here before I change my mind on allowing you to leave.”

“Very well,” the Architect said, “Good luck, Commander. I shall watch from one of these towers to make sure the Mother has been defeated. Perhaps I will even be able to offer some aid. When she is dead…then I will go.”

With that, he used magic to lift himself to the higher level of the ruins they were in, and then disappeared through a doorway. Justice continued to mutter about letting him go, but obligingly followed Amell as she moved towards the lower exit. Mouse, on the other hand, bumped Amell’s palm with the top of his head just before she lifted her hand from his pouch. “Thank you,” he murmured (Amell suspected he was keeping his voice low so no one else would hear him expressing gratitude), “I hate to ibagine what he would have done with be.”

Amell smiled. “I doubt it would have done your cold any favors.”

“Probably dot,” Mouse agreed with a faint chuckle, before sneezing. “_Hikshh! Yitchh!_”

“Swift healing,” Amell said, before raising her voice to address the group at large, “Come on. Let’s try to end this once and for all.”

***

It took a long, difficult battle, complete with tentacles, the grub-like creatures that had been dubbed Childer, and glyphs that negated Amell and Velanna’s magic, but the Mother was eventually defeated. The Architect had even pitched in from a distance, sending down a rain of fire directly on top of the Mother. Amell wasn’t entirely sure that made up for the revelation about him the Mother had reported (that his experiments had led to the last Blight), but he otherwise appeared to be on their side, and there wasn’t much she could do about it anymore. Instead, she and the others healed their injuries, then set out for Vigil’s Keep, hoping there would still be something left of it by the time they got there.

Despite their anxiety, Amell had them make camp midway through the return journey, not wanting them to collapse from exhaustion, since they’d been operating on nothing but adrenaline and various potions and spells for at least a week. Unsurprisingly, once given a chance to rest, everyone except Justice (who as a spirit felt very little fatigue) slept for twelve hours. It did them all good, though; their steps were more energetic as they moved towards the Keep. Even Mouse finally seemed to be on the mend, though given the occasional sniffle Amell heard from his pouch, she suspected he wouldn’t fully recover until he got at least two days of rest in a warm, comfortable room. The only question was if a warm, comfortable room even existed in the area.

When the Keep finally came into view, it was simultaneously a comforting and an unnerving sight. The buildings were still standing, but the walls surrounding the Keep were black and full of holes. As they got closer, they heard the faint sound of shouting, and then, gradually, the sound of cheering. Eventually, they crested a ridge and discovered a group of people, from soldiers to servants, standing outside to greet them, clapping and whistling. Captain Garevel was the first one to break away and approach them. “Thank the Maker! We were sure the Mother had been defeated when the darkspawn abruptly broke off their attack, but we weren’t certain if you’d survived!”

“Wardens don’t go down easily,” Amell replied, “How is the Keep?”

It turned out Amell’s instinct had been right. Thanks to the fortified walls and the armor she’d commissioned, the Keep had held for a little over a week before a concentrated darkspawn force broke through. Even so, they’d lost quite a few people, including Sigrun, and others were seriously injured, like Varel and Oghren. As for the buildings, most of them were damaged in one way or another, but all of them were salvageable. Relieved at the mostly good news, Amell dismissed the other three to rest or celebrate, while she took a tour of the Keep to assess its condition for herself.

Perhaps because she was afraid of what she’d find (or of Mouse’s reaction), Amell saved the library for last. The rest of the main building’s interior had been thoroughly overturned, with some rooms at least partially burned and others covered in blood, so she wasn’t holding out a lot of hope for a room full of flammable objects. When she reached the room, she discovered that the door had been blasted off its hinges, which wasn’t a good sign. The inside, however, wasn’t as bad as she’d been expecting. A lot of books and a few bookcases had been knocked to the ground, there were torn scraps of paper everywhere, and the chairs and tables were beyond saving, but a good number of the books were intact. Even so, the room wasn’t going to be useable for a while. “Sorry, Mouse,” she said, “You’re going to have to stay with me until this place gets cleaned up.”

“I’ll survive,” Mouse responded, “I’m more annoyed at the fact that the darkspawn destroyed the book I was reading. I was only two-thirds of the way through it.”

Amell grinned, despite herself. “Tell me what it was called. If I can spare someone, I’ll send them to another region to get you a new copy.”

“Does that mean I’ve become a higher priority?” Mouse asked, a knowing smile in his voice.

“I did say ‘if I can spare someone’,” Amell said, “You may be waiting a long time. But rest assured, you’ll get your book eventually.”

“I can wait,” Mouse said, “Compared to being stuck in the Fade or a test subject for the Architect, being deprived of a book is a trivial problem.”

“I’m glad you’re able to put things in perspective,” Amell chuckled, “Now let’s see if we can find a bedroom that’s still got a useable mattress. I think a bath and then some more rest is in order for both of us.”


	5. Making a Call(ing)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's at this point that I break away from the established canon of the games and strike out in a slightly more original direction. However, there will be references to events in _Dragon Age II_ and _Dragon Age: Inquisition_ where it makes sense to do so. As for the new stuff, I used the _Dragon Age_ wiki to be as canon compliant as possible. Hopefully I succeeded at that.

Amell and the survivors of the Keep spent the next year rebuilding both the Keep and Amaranthine. While there was naturally a lot of work to be done, things went much smoother than Amell would have thought. Not only were there quite a lot of donations sent in to aid their efforts, but spending hours either doing manual labor or providing relief to Amaranthine’s citizens cut down significantly on the bickering between her comrades. There was still some, of course, but Amell was inclined to call it affectionate, a way to bond or release some frustration while working, so she responded to it with a shake of the head rather than an exasperated sigh.

Over time, everyone gravitated to a task. Anders spent most of his time in Amaranthine, healing the injured and sick. Howe divided his time between Amaranthine and the Keep; since he was familiar with both, he could tell the others the best or most important places to focus attention on. Oghren, once he recovered from his wounds, tended to stay at the Keep and assist with repairs to the walls and buildings. Justice either went out to the countryside to eliminate lingering darkspawn, or provided help to the citizens of Amaranthine. Velanna also spent a lot of time clearing out darkspawn, but would occasionally assist with something if asked (and if she didn’t have to work in too large a group). And as Warden-Commander, Amell went where she was needed, be it dealing with disputes of property or using her magic to clear debris. As for Mouse, he was generally unable to contribute, but once a repair was complete, he would run over or through it to make sure everything looked stable and supported. Most of the time, though, Amell allowed him to stay in a corner and read, until the library was restored and they were able to return to the old routine.

(Once it became obvious that Ferelden was going to be very generous with their donations, Amell put out a statement that in addition to money or building supplies, books to restock the Keep’s library would be very welcome. No one questioned her decision, though Varel shook his head and smiled faintly as he prepared to draw up the proclamation. Mouse didn’t ever say anything about it either, though when Amell presented him with a certain unfinished book, she saw his eyes flash with what she suspected was eager gratitude.)

By the time a year had passed, Amaranthine was livable again, and Amell could turn her full attention to the Keep and other bureaucratic matters. She still occasionally went out on missions, but generally delegated that to other Wardens, as she had a lot to occupy her. In-between repairs, meetings, and paperwork, however, she always tried to set aside a few non-sleeping hours for herself. She spent some of that time in conversation with her Wardens, hoping to be their friend when she wasn’t their commander. But she did her best to spend at least an hour in the library, talking with Mouse about his latest book or a related subject. It hadn’t been intended—she’d jokingly dropped in during a shift change to ask if the book she’d reacquired for him had been worth the effort—but when Mouse seemed happy to discuss his reading, Amell jumped at the opportunity. In time, it started to feel like their conversations at camp had, which she took to be an encouraging sign.

Occasionally, she was able to draw others into their talks. Oghren and Velanna only did it once or twice thanks to their enmity with Mouse, but all parties remained relatively civil while discussing aspects of Dwarven and Elven culture, respectively. Howe freely admitted he wasn’t one for philosophy, but did discuss historical events with Mouse a handful of times. Surprisingly, Anders and Justice were the two most regular additions, each coming to the library at least once a month (Justice agreed to come whenever Amell asked, and Anders would always show up, even if he made a big show of protesting when she’d first approach him). Neither of them were inclined to trust Mouse and would pepper their speech with warning remarks or jabs, but they were able to debate about the Fade or magic without Amell worrying that a fight was going to break out. She could tell the two of them still couldn’t fully understand why she kept Mouse around, but they no longer openly questioned her decision, and that was progress in itself. As long as the internal situation in the Keep was relatively stable, it would be easier for her to improve the external one.

***

And so a few years passed. Varel stepped down as seneschal thanks to injuries sustained during the attack on the Keep and was replaced by Garavel, who was equally competent after a period of adjustment. Amell’s Mabari was returned to her, and happily resumed his place by her side. She struck up correspondence with Wynne, Zevran, Loghain, and Leliana, informing them of her activities and getting updates on them and the outside world in return. She sent reports to the First Warden at Weisshaupt, and received responses that indicated he approved greatly of how she was handling things. Despite the stress that came with being Warden-Commander, Amell would happily have said if asked that she enjoyed her life.

While she threw herself into her duties and the repairs to the Keep, Amell still devoted at least a little time to Mouse and his hopeful rehabilitation. Knowing she couldn’t expect change to happen quickly, she tried not to constantly look for evidence of the corruption leaving him. Instead, she continued to let him remain in the library save for her forays out of the Keep, and spoke with him for at least an hour every day, hoping that kindness and constant exposure to new ideas would be enough to soften him, as it had once before. The one exception to this was on the occasions when he fell ill.

While most of Amell’s trips away from the Keep had been to relatively warm places, it seemed Mouse had indeed inherited Prescott’s tendency to catch cold at the start of winter. When Amell woke up one morning and felt the bite in the air that signaled the change of season, she immediately made her way to the library to check on Mouse. Sure enough, he’d moved from the new easy chair to sitting near the fire, and greeted her with a baleful look and a congested voice from stifling. Amell bit back her laughter and told Gilles to fetch some handkerchiefs as well as clean and warm scraps of cloth to make Mouse another nest. To Mouse’s relief, Amell quickly determined that he probably wouldn’t need a fever reducer as long as he stayed by the fire, something he immediately decided to abide by. Once the nest was completed, Mouse climbed into it and fell asleep minutes later. Amell took advantage of that opportunity to take another look at Mouse’s fur in the firelight. In the five or so months since the last time she’d looked, the brown in Mouse’s fur had gone from “possible trick of the light” to “unquestionably present”. It hadn’t fully replaced his black fur, and it was dark enough that it would be difficult to tell there was a difference, but it was enough to keep Amell hopeful. Though she said nothing about it to either Mouse or her companions, figuring bringing attention to it would be more a hindrance than a help.

Mouse fell ill three more times after that, twice during winter and a third time after an excursion to Anselm’s Reef, an inlet that was pelted with a rainstorm when she and her team arrived. Each time, Amell examined Mouse’s fur while he slept, and each time, there was a change. The first time, she couldn’t find any trace of black fur, only the dark brown. The second time, the brown was starting to lighten. And the third time, not only had his entire body returned to the original shade it had been when she first met him (though it had happened so gradually that Amell hadn’t actively noticed), but the firelight revealed that his fur was starting to change into an even lighter tawny color. She continued to keep this information to herself, but that, combined with Mouse’s drastic reduction of biting insults, was enough to make her believe the Archdemon’s corruption was well on its way to leaving him. There was only one way to be sure, though, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that test. So instead, she bided her time and waited for the right opportunity.

That opportunity came just on the cusp of her fourth year as Warden-Commander. She received word from Weisshaupt that the First Warden had stepped down in preparation to go on his Calling, which brought the reminder of her own mortality crashing back. After defeating the Archdemon with no Wardens lost and then throwing herself into resolving the darkspawn issue and rebuilding the region, it had been easy to forget that being a Warden meant being cursed with a shortened lifespan. It was a gross injustice, as far as she was concerned; the Wardens dedicated their lives to protecting others, and not only were they rarely acknowledged for their deeds (saving in the immediate aftermath of a Blight), but they died far too young, and generally unable to have children to boot. It was obvious they needed to find a cure or prevention for the Calling, and Amell was more than willing to take on that job.

Once she made up her mind, Amell immediately wrote to the new First Warden, stating her intention and asking for permission to do so. After a few months, a reply arrived, granting the permission, included all documents pertaining to a cure the Wardens had gathered over the years, and asking that she remain as Ferelden’s Warden-Commander until her replacement arrived in another two months. Amell agreed readily, since it would give her time to make preparations and tie up any loose ends. To that end, she wrote letters to her friends, informing them that she would be on a long journey and would be difficult to get in contact with, but she’d write when she could. She also wrote up documents for her successor so she could set out without having to train them. Then there was the matter of packing for her trip, gathering up as many health poultices and lyrium potions as she could, and figuring out the best places to look for information, as well as the most efficient order to visit them. She continued to do her duties and visit with Mouse, but it did mean she had very little time for herself, and collapsed exhausted in bed every night. She only complained internally, though; if this extra work led to a cure, it would be worth it in the end.

At last, her replacement, a man named Hamon Dicun, arrived at Vigil’s Keep, and Amell gave him a tour and told him the most important things he needed to know. The next day, they held a formal ceremony where she stepped down as Warden-Commander and Dicun assumed the position. A celebratory banquet was held that evening, where Amell had a chance to make her goodbyes to everyone. Even Mouse was convinced to leave the library and attend, bantering with his regular sparring partners one last time. Despite the repeated refrain of “good riddance”, Amell got the feeling most of them would miss him at least a little, and almost suspected the feeling was mutual.

The next morning, Amell put on her pack, took a last look around her room, whistled for her dog to follow her, then went to the library and dispelled the glyph for the last time. Mouse was already in his pouch waiting for her, the chair and end table devoid of books for once. Amell smiled at him and attached the pouch to her hip, nodding to Amista. “I’ve asked Warden Dicun to continue to pay you and the other two the same wages,” she said, “Though you’ll be returning to more typical duties. I can’t promise he’ll do so, however, so I wanted to warn you of a possible change. Let the others know.” Amista bowed and left the room, Amell following behind shortly thereafter.

As she walked through the halls, she ran into her friends, who had made sure to wake up early to see her off. Oghren clapped her on the back (or rather the small of her back) and told her to raise a glass for him every so often; Howe thanked her for all she’d done to help him restore his family’s name; Velanna warned her not to get into any trouble, which was her way of saying “be careful”; Justice, whose body looked in even worse shape than it had when he’d first been pulled into the mortal realm, admitted he would probably never see her again but praised her for trying to make things right for the Wardens; and Anders made a few jokes, though his misty eyes gave his true feelings away. Giving all of them one last handshake, Amell made her way to the throne room, said goodbye to Garavel and Dicun, and then, at last, left the Keep.

Amell’s plan was to head for Amaranthine, then to the nearby port, where she, Mouse, and the Mabari would board a ship to take them across the Waking Sea. From there, they’d head overland to the Tevinter Imperium. Despite its reputation, it was the best starting point Amell had for looking for magical spells or rituals that could stop the Calling. And as a mage, she probably wouldn’t have much trouble getting in. It was getting _to _Tevinter that would be the hard part; while her status as the Hero of Ferelden would help, she was still a mage, and not everyone would be accepting of her. But if she only went into towns when necessary, hid her staff when she did so, and presented the Writ of Dispensation that the new First Warden had given her if trouble arose, she would hopefully make it through relatively unscathed. First, though, she needed to get to Amaranthine, the last place where she’d be guaranteed a warm welcome.

She was probably a little over halfway to the city when night fell, at which point she made camp. Once her tent was set up and the fire burning, she looked down at Mouse, hesitating. During the course of all her preparations, she had realized that this journey would be the perfect time to test her theory regarding Mouse, but now that the moment was actually upon her, she couldn’t help but be nervous. What if she was wrong? What if this one mistake was enough to undo all the good she’d done?

There was only one way to find out, though, and putting it off would make it harder to actually commit to. So she took a deep breath and said;

“Mouse?”

“Mmm?” Mouse said, looking up at her.

“I…I have an offer for you.”

“Oh?” Mouse sounded decidedly intrigued.

“The quicker I can find a cure for the Calling, the better. My research would go a lot faster if I had an extra pair of eyes…and hands.”

“You trust me to look through magic books? I’m sur…” Mouse’s voice died away as he registered the final part of her sentence. He immediately put his front paws on the lip of the pouch and looked up intently at her. “Are you saying…?”

Amell nodded. “I’m willing to lift my shapeshifting spell. But it’s going to come with a lot of restrictions. When we make camp on the roadside, you can stay in your human form in a separate tent and read, but I’m going to put all the old glyphs and wards on it. When we stay at inns, you’ll resume your mouse form and share my room, where you’ll also be surrounded by protective spells. You’re still forbidden from attacking me, my dog, or anyone I deem an ally, and you aren’t allowed to use any magic besides changing forms unless I allow it. This is especially true of your s…demon form. If you find anything in your reading that seems like it could be of use to my work, let me know immediately and I’ll take a look for myself. I’ll be the one to give you books to look through; you can’t choose them for yourself, although I’m willing to make exceptions if it’s a non-magic related text and is for your evening reading. Should you violate any of those rules, I’ll recast the shapeshifting spell. Or, if I deem it necessary, I’ll kill you. Is that clear?”

“Very clear,” Mouse said, eyes shining, “Were you planning on casting the spell tonight?”

“Now seems as good a time as any.” Amell confirmed, leaving unspoken the thought that doing it here would hopefully minimize casualties if Mouse turned on her. Walking over to a nearby tree, she lifted Mouse out of the pouch and set him on the ground. The Mabari gave a curious whine, but remained by the fire, watching cautiously. Taking a few steps away, Amell lifted her staff and made the necessary gestures to end the spell. “There,” she said, continuing to hold onto the staff just in case he tried anything, “Give it a try.”

There was a brief pause, a quick flash of white light, and Mouse’s human form was in front of her. He immediately staggered and threw out a hand to help support him, finding the bark of the tree as Amell had planned. Amell took advantage of his temporary disorientation to take a look at him. She was slightly surprised to see that his hair was still dark; given the change to his fur as a mouse, she’d expected his hair to follow suit. But he looked the same as the last time she’d seen his human form, complete with the brown cloak she’d bought for him at Haven and, just visible at his side, his personal pouch of handkerchiefs. She let herself smile for a moment, then focused her attention on Mouse’s actions.

Mouse blinked and shook his head a few times, then turned to look at her. Even by the firelight, Amell could see that his eyes were the same mercurial blue they had been before the transformation, when he’d taken on the black eyes of a mouse. That was more of an encouraging sign; she suspected that if he’d still had a large amount of corruption inside him, his eyes would have been black or red. “How does it feel?” she asked.

“Different,” Mouse admitted, “I’m not used to seeing things from this high up, and it’s been a long time since I had to move like this. It’s probably going to take some time for me to readjust.”

“That’s why I packed a non-magic staff,” Amell said, “You can lean on that until you’ve reminded yourself how human legs work. As for arms and hands, I think you’ll figure that out a lot quicker. If nothing else, it’ll make turning pages a lot easier.”

Mouse chuckled at that. “Indeed. Perhaps you could fetch that staff now? I can try to practice walking while you make dinner for yourself and the dog.”

Amell nodded, then signaled for the Mabari to keep an eye on Mouse while she got the staff. As she moved away, still holding onto her staff in a way that was only somewhat subtly pointed in Mouse’s direction, she heard him laugh again. “All these years, and you’re still wary around me. I knew there was a reason you’re one of the few mages I respect.”

Amell outwardly ignored him as she retrieved the staff, but when she lowered her head to her pack, she took advantage of the moment to beam. Mouse wouldn’t have openly admitted to respecting her in the early days of his corruption, yet here he was saying it as a statement of fact. The odds were high that he still wouldn’t consider her a friend, but it was a reassuring hint that she’d made the right choice. Though only time would truly prove her right, and until then, she’d continue taking precautions. As Mouse himself had alluded to, it was the smart thing to do.


	6. Welcome to the Imperium

The remaining walk to Amaranthine was slower than the previous days had been, since Mouse still needed to adjust to walking on two legs. Amell had foreseen this, and didn’t begrudge the extra time. Besides, it gave her a chance to keep an eye on Mouse to see if he was testing her limits, which would give her more of a sense of how much freedom she’d be willing to grant him as time passed. Of course, she knew Mouse knew she was watching him, so perhaps it was a fruitless exercise. Still, knowing she was watching would still be somewhat of a deterrent, so she continued to do it regardless.

By the time they arrived in Amaranthine, Mouse was a lot steadier on his feet, though he didn’t seem inclined to try walking without the staff just yet. It didn’t help that she told him to return to his mouse form before they took a room in the Crown and Lion, since the innkeeper was used to seeing a mouse in her pouch by now and would ask questions if he wasn’t there. It was unlikely to completely undo all his progress, but she could see how it would be annoying for him. She tried to make it up to him the next morning by stopping by a book stall and getting him five books for the journey, which he was more than happy to accept. With that done, she took one last look around the city, then left through the other entrance, on the way to the port.

It was easy to book passage on a ship heading for the Free Marches, and Amell was even honest enough (despite Mouse suggesting otherwise) to pay for two humans and a dog. They shared a cabin for the duration of the trip, but Mouse still assumed his mouse form in the evenings, while the dog slept on the other bed, something Mouse good-naturedly groused about. The journey itself was uneventful; once Amell recovered from a bout of sea-sickness, she alternated between exercising with the dog, trying to figure out the best avenues of research to start with, and talking with Mouse, both about the cure and about his reading. For his part, Mouse spent the first part of the journey readjusting to his human form (admittedly not an easy thing to do when you need to deal with sea legs on top of normal legs), and then was content to stay in their cabin and read, which Amell allowed him to do without supervision (though she did remove her pack from the room and put an unobtrusive glyph on the door before leaving him). It was relatively peaceful, and Amell welcomed the rest, given the work that was ahead.

Once they landed in the Free Marches, the small group followed the route Amell had mapped out, one that was relatively close to cities and towns but just enough off the beaten path that they wouldn’t encounter too many people. Mouse got to retain his human form for several weeks, since they were always out of town before nightfall and there was no one there who was more familiar with him as a mouse. The trip was more difficult than the boat ride had been—they were attacked by a few bandits, and keeping to forest paths meant rougher living—but compared to some of their travels during the Blight and in the early months of her time as Warden-Commander, it wasn’t too challenging. Even so, it took them several months to cross into Tevinter controlled territory, entering it just before the onset of winter.

Since they’d begun their journey in the summer, Amell had grown used to travelling in warm weather, and had been more focused on the day’s journey than any changes (or lack thereof) in temperature. It wasn’t until they stopped to buy some supplies from a merchant that Amell learned that it was winter. Mouse seemed as surprised by this as she was, and the merchant noticed their expressions. “New to Tevinter, eh?” When Amell nodded, he continued “It’s almost always warm here. It can get unbearable in the summer, but winters are much more pleasant than they are in the rest of Thedas, at least based on my experience. Don’t ask me if the weather’s controlled by the magisters or not, though; they aren’t telling one way or the other.” Amell obligingly smiled politely and finished the transaction.

Once they’d moved away, Mouse said “Do you think it’s possible we could return to live here once you’ve found a cure? I think it may be the perfect temperature for me, and perhaps I’d never have to deal with illness again.”

Amell chuckled. “We’re going to be spending at least two years here scouring the various libraries around the Imperium. Let’s see what else the region has to offer besides comfortable weather.” Mouse nodded in agreement before turning his head upwards to enjoy the sun on his face.

Another week of travel brought them in sight of Ventus, a walled city close to the sea. Even from this distance, it looked imposing, seeming to glitter when the sun was directly overhead. It was a reminder of what the Imperium was capable of, and even though the residents would probably be accepting of her thanks to her magic, Amell couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. Reminding herself of all she’d survived prior to now, however, she squared her shoulders and pressed on.

When they finally arrived at the city gates, Amell presented the guards with a letter of introduction from the First Warden, which explained her purpose and requested access to the city’s library. The guards allowed her inside, but told her it would be at least a week before the local magisters would discuss her request. Amell didn’t mind too much, as it would give her a chance to explore the city. After getting a recommendation for an inn to stay at, Amell, Mouse, and the dog were allowed to pass through the gates.

While the city wasn’t quite as grand as it had appeared from a distance, it was still very striking. All the major buildings were carved of white marble that looked like they were polished daily, and were topped with bronze or gold roofs. The streets weren’t paved, but they were smooth and relatively clean. Horse drawn carriages passed by frequently, though most people seemed to travel by foot. While it wasn’t as opulent as the stories had made it seem, it was certainly one of the grander places Amell had been.

As her little group made their way to the inn, Amell noticed a lot of the people she passed would take a few steps to the side as she approached. Initially, she thought they were giving her a wide berth because she was an outsider, but then she realized that they would follow this up by bowing, or at least inclining their heads. That’s when she remembered that she was wearing robes that matched the designs that mages in Tevinter wore. Either they thought she was a visiting magister, or they were just showing deference to an obvious mage. She’d have found it flattering if the response wasn’t so automatic, or if the bows weren’t accompanied by a flash of fear in people’s eyes. While she was somewhat used to people being wary around her due to her magic, _that _wariness was mixed with contempt. _These _nervous glances were tempered with awe, and that was disconcerting.

When they finally arrived at the inn, Amell paid for a week’s room and board. It was only when she was turning towards the stairs when the innkeeper spoke up. “Er…Ser? I hate to ask this of you, but…your dog can’t stay in the room with you.”

“What? Why?” Amell asked, turning back to look at the woman.

The woman visibly shrunk back. “B-because the smell might bother other guests. Of course, if it’s absolutely essential that he stay with you, I’d be willing to make an exception…” she said, speaking rapidly and trying to sound reassuring but only coming across as scared.

Amell sighed and scratched behind her dog’s ears. “No, it’s all right. I’ll defer to your customs. I’m the visitor here, after all. Where can he stay?”

The innkeeper looked relieved. “We have an inner courtyard with beautiful gardens and plenty of shaded areas. He’ll be quite comfortable there, and we’ll make sure to give him a lovely satin pillow to sleep on, as well as the choicest meats every day!”

The Mabari, who had been looking at the innkeeper skeptically during all this, perked up at the mention of meat. Amell patted his head. “That will be fine. Just make sure to give him a bowl of fresh water every day as well. I don’t want him overheating in this climate.”

“Of course, of course!” the woman said, “I’ll tell the slaves to make sure of it!”

Now it was Amell’s turn to blanch. She’d mostly forgotten that slavery was still allowed in the Imperium. She felt like she should say something, perhaps declare she’d take care of the Mabari herself, but wasn’t sure if that would lead to trouble, either with the slaves or with the magisters who would be deciding if she could look at the library. Sighing guiltily, she just nodded and moved towards the door that led to the gardens.

The gardens were indeed a sight to behold, full of shiny dark green leaves and bright blooms, with a fountain in the center and a covered walkway held up by elegant columns. Amell looked around, only partially taking in the view, her mind still trying to adjust to the reminder of why Tevinter was so despised. Then she knelt down to talk to her dog.

“Be on your best behavior, all right? I don’t want anyone getting in trouble because of us.”

The dog barked in agreement. Amell glanced around, then lowered her voice.

“That being said…if you think you can get away with it, feel free to ‘water’ the plants on occasion.”

The Mabari wagged his tail and gave a much happier bark. Giving him another pet, she left him to explore, while she and Mouse went to find their room. It was just as opulent as the rest of the city, with brocade sashes above the four poster bed, wood polished until it shone, and gilt everywhere. Amell set her pack on the floor and started sorting through her things. As she pulled out her notes and writing implements, Mouse spoke for the first time since entering the city.

“It’s like the Fade, isn’t it? You can’t be sure what you’ll find, but you know it’s unlikely to be good.”

“Perhaps that’s why it’s always warm here,” Amell said, with more anger in her voice than she’d intended, “The Imperium wants to emulate the Fade as much as possible, to show how close they are to the Maker.”

Mouse sighed. “I’ve changed my mind. When we’re finished with our business here, let’s never come back.”

“Agreed.” Amell said, searching in her pack for their books.

***

Amell and Mouse spent the next week looking around the city as they’d originally planned, finding it magnificent and terrible by turns. The architecture was glorious and the food was delicious, but the non-magical inhabitants were unquestionably treated as lesser, and there was an almost palpable feeling of snobbery. If they lingered in a place, they were almost certain to hear gossip about some Altus or another, and family names peppered every conversation. It may have been refreshing to see magic openly being practiced, but the tradeoffs hardly seemed worth it.

On the evening of the sixth day, a message arrived for Amell asking her to come to the magister’s council chambers the next morning. Amell immediately requested baths be drawn for her and Mouse. Then she changed into a bathrobe, ordered Mouse to do the same, and used a combination of magic, water, and soap to clean, polish, and repair their robes until being told the baths were ready. The next morning, she spent extra time on her hair, looking in the mirror until she was sure there wasn’t a single strand out of place. “I don’t know why you’re going to so much trouble,” Mouse said, peering over the top of his book, “I’m not sure I want to be thought of positively by these people.”

“We need to make a good first impression, at least,” Amell said, “Otherwise, we might be denied access to the library, and other libraries in Tevinter besides. With luck, we’ll never have to interact with them again, and can say and do what we like. But for today, I’m going to be on my best behavior, and I’m ordering you to do the same.”

“Very well,” Mouse said, “Though if they decide you should attend all their insipid parties, at least allow me to use my mouse form to hide in the shadows and not engage with them.”

Amell smiled a little at that. “I believe I’d be amenable to that.”

Half-an-hour before the meeting, Amell and Mouse arrived at the council building, and were shown into an antechamber with a high, arched roof, plenty of natural light, and walls covered with paintings. The man who allowed them in sized them up, then directed Amell to a chair inlaid with gems while telling Mouse to stand. Mouse glared at the back of the man’s head as he departed before looking at Amell. Amell sighed and shook her head. “Just this once, Mouse. Just until we’ve got our library access.” Mouse narrowed his eyes, but obeyed.

At last, the two of them were summoned to the council chambers, which were even larger and grander than the antechamber. Amell stood in the center of the floor, Mouse a little behind her, and had to look up at the magisters, who were sitting on benches above her. Thanks to the circular design of the room, it was impossible to see all the people present, which added to the intimidation. Amell just squared her shoulders, held her head high, and kept her hands loosely at her sides, waiting for one of the magisters to speak.

A minute or two passed while the man directly across from Amell, who she assumed was the leader, looked over a piece of paper. Finally, he set it down and addressed Amell. “We are familiar with your name, Warden Amell. The fact that a Blight was defeated by a mage did not escape our notice. Our congratulations on showing Thedas the power of magic. Perhaps this will help them start to come round to our way of thinking, and allow our magical brethren to be free.”

Amell inclined her head. “I would be honored to have contributed to that.”

“As for your request, it is a noble one, to be sure. In addition, we see no reason for a mage not to better themselves. We are inclined to grant you access to our library, and write a letter of recommendation that should allow you near-immediate access to the other libraries across Tevinter. However, we have one request of you first.”

“And what would that be?” Amell asked, her throat dry.

The magister gestured down at her. “It has not escaped our attention that you have a spirit bound to you, and a powerful one at that. Given that our practices are typically held in contempt in the rest of Thedas, we’d like to hear how such a thing came to be.”

Amell didn’t dare risk a glance at Mouse, but she was almost certain he’d tensed up beside her. Figuring it was safe to tell most of the truth, she answered the question.

“I met this spirit in the Fade during my Harrowing, as the test I had to pass. I was successful, and then was taken away from my Circle to become a Warden. During the Blight, the Circle was besieged by demons, and my party returned to deal with them. After we rescued the First Enchanter, we were told that one demon was still alive, having leapt into the body of a just-killed apprentice. We went to where he…”

“‘He?’” the magister repeated, sounding almost amused, “You refer to it as a ‘he?’ Spirits are just things, tools to be used. Would you refer to your staff as such?”

Amell fervently hoped that Mouse’s expression hadn’t become obviously murderous. “A force of habit. The apprentice the spirit now inhabits was male, after all.”

“Of course. Please, continue.”

Knowing it was unwise to refer to Mouse by name, Amell continued “The spirit was being contained by magic, and recognized me. I had read about your practice of binding spirits prior to my Harrowing, and knowing the stories of how the Blight came to be, I thought perhaps he could be of use. My First Enchanter had the knowledge to cast the spell once the spirit was weakened, and he’s been bound to me ever since.”

“Very impressive,” the magister said, “Could we see its spirit form? We’d like to see just how powerful it really is.”

The faint anxiety pressing against Amell’s heart became a vise of panic. While she clearly still had control over Mouse in his human form, she’d never allowed him to change into his spirit form, in case he was still a pride demon or worse. Allowing him to change to his true form might give him enough power to break the bond. On the other hand, denying their request would probably suggest weakness and could jeopardize her access to the library, cutting off a huge avenue of research for a cure. Either way, the outcome wouldn’t be good.

These thoughts all flashed through her mind in a split second, and she knew she needed to give an answer quickly. Stepping to the side, she looked over at Mouse. While he was admirably keeping his mouth in a neutral position, she could see barely contained anger in his eyes as he looked up at the magisters. Saying a quick prayer to the Maker in her head, she spoke aloud.

“Go on. We shouldn’t keep the magisters waiting.”

Mouse gave her a brief, unreadable glance, and then he was surrounded by a flash of white light. Amell’s hands balled into fists, hoping that if he _did _become a pride demon, he would be more inclined to attack the magisters before turning on her.

A few moments passed, but the light didn’t disappear. Soon, Mouse could be seen in his human shape, surrounded and covered by a white-gold aura. He glanced down at himself, head tilting to the side in curiosity, and Amell let out a deep exhale. It was possible he’d found a way to assume a more spirit-looking form while hiding his true shape, but based on his reaction, it appeared that her judgments about his level of corruption had been right.

Now that her heart was no longer pounding in her ears, she could hear approving murmurs all around her. “Very impressive indeed,” the chief magister said, “You made an excellent judgment when you selected this one. Permission to search through our libraries and archives is hereby granted, and a note saying as much, as well as a letter of recommendation, will be sent to your inn by the end of the day.”

Amell bowed deeply. “Thank you, lords and ladies. You do me a great honor, and I and the Wardens are grateful for it.”

“Naturally,” the magister said, “You may leave now. And when you wish to take time away from your research, I do hope you’ll consider attending some of our evening fêtes. It can be bracing to hear how much the other regions hate us.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Amell said, her tone as sincere as she could make it. Then she looked at Mouse and gestured towards the door. “Come along, then. We mustn’t take up any more of the magisters’ time.” With that, she bowed again and then moved towards the exit as quickly as she dared, knowing without looking that Mouse was right behind her.

Mouse (who returned to his human form once they were in the antechamber) managed to retain his composure until they were out on the street and at least thirty strides away from the building. At that point, he let out a stream of Fade invectives that caused people to either stare or back away slowly. While his tone was enough to make Amell’s skin prickle, she patiently walked alongside him as she waited for him to finish. When there was finally a lull in the swearing, she said;

“I’m sorry about that, Mouse. But it got us what we wanted. And I promise, I won’t subject you to that again if I can help it.”

“I’m not sure you’ll have much choice in the matter,” Mouse growled, “If we wind up staying here long enough, it’ll probably behoove you to attend at least one of their ego-stroking gatherings to show the proper gratitude. And I’m sure they’ll expect you to bring along your ‘servant’ so they can ooh and aah over your ‘power’.”

Amell sighed. “You’re probably right. But I’ll do what I can to keep it to a minimum.”

“I suppose that’s the best I can hope for. Thank you.” Amell nodded, and they continued walking for a bit. Then Mouse said;

“I know your dogged determination will get you in trouble one of these days…but you may have been right in my case. I wouldn’t have believed it possible to happen twice, but there you are.”

Amell smiled. “Consider it my own point of pride. One I learned from an expert.”

Mouse smiled back. “Are you saying I corrupted you while you purified me?”

“I prefer to think of it as us tempering each other.”

Mouse considered for a moment. Then he nodded. “I think I like that.”

Amell’s heart lightened considerably at that. And when they arrived at the inn, she made it a point to hold open the door and let him go in first.

***

As promised, the letters granting Amell access to the various Tevinter libraries arrived that night. Amell wasted no time, and went to the Ventus library the next morning, Mouse right on her heels. After everything she’d seen of Tevinter design, she shouldn’t have been surprised when she was allowed inside, but still had to take a few seconds to gape in awe anyway. The entire central room was packed from floor (well, ankle-height) to ceiling with books, spiral staircases and walkways allowing you to reach the different levels. Each walkway was decorated with frescoes, natural light poured in from all directions to make it easier to read, and the floor was made of dark red wood that was polished enough to gleam and provide a contrast to the lighter walls. When she finally tore her eyes away and glanced at Mouse, she saw him vibrating with excitement, and bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Come on. Let’s see if we can figure out where to start looking for the cure.”

After asking the curator how the books were arranged, Amell and Mouse found their way to a likely section of the library (Healing Magic) and looked through the titles until they’d each selected half a dozen books that had promise. Sadly, a good number of the books were in Tevene, but there were enough in the common tongue to give them a place to start. They were then directed to a side room where they could read in peace, complete with plush chairs covered in embroidery and tables that looked brand new. The worker who guided them there even offered to bring them tea, which they declined for the time being. Instead, they piled up their books and set to work.

Not two minutes in, Amell was jolted out of her reading by a sound she hadn’t heard in months. “_Hiktich! Hiptchiew!_”

Amell set down her book and peered over at Mouse curiously, wondering why he’d decided to change into his mouse form. To her surprise, he was still in his human form, handkerchief pressed to his nose. “Swift healing,” she said, “Are you all right?”

“I don’t believe I’m suddenly falling ill, if that’s what you mean,” Mouse said, sounding annoyed, “Though my nose _has _started itching for no reason I can determine.”

A thought and a vague memory flashed through Amell’s mind at the same time. “Did it start shortly after you opened a book?”

“Yes,” Mouse replied, “Why?”

“A theory. Lift the book to your face and take a breath through your nose.”

Mouse gave her a skeptical look, but did as she instructed. Seconds later, he dropped the book and clapped the handkerchief to his face again. “_Itshhk! Kishh!_” Despite unquestionably being in his human form, his sneezes sounded like they did when he was a mouse, an odd change. There was, however, something more pressing to discuss.

“Swift healing. You’re allergic to dust.”

“I can’t be,” Mouse said, shaking his head, “I’ve spent years reading books in various stages of cleanliness, with my nose close to the page, no less. Not to mention all those times I crawled around in walls and floorboards, which had quite an accumulation of dust as well.”

“I don’t deny it’s odd, but that’s the most likely explanation. I think Prescott was allergic to it too, which would explain your reaction.”

Mouse looked from her to the book on the ground and back again. Then he transformed into his mouse form and hopped down to the book, sticking his nose directly onto the pages and inhaling deeply. “A lot of it may have been knocked loose when you dropped it,” Amell pointed out, picking up one of her books and moving to crouch down beside him, “Try this one.”

Mouse obligingly pressed his nose against that one too. Several deep breaths later, he pulled away and shook his head. “Nothing. A bit of prickling, maybe, but no desperate need to sneeze.”

“All right. Now try it again as a human.”

Mouse transformed again, took the book from her, and sniffed it. His face immediately contorted, and he pressed the book to his chest as he stifled the sneeze. “_Hipff!_”

“Swift healing,” Amell said, an idea forming in her mind, “One more test; try it in your spirit form.”

Mouse did so, sniffing the book again. When nothing happened, he brought the book a little closer and took a deeper breath. They both waited, but no sneeze was forthcoming. “I think I know what’s going on,” Amell said, “Your spirit and mouse forms are Fade-based, which somehow blocks the allergic reaction. But when you’re human, the natural responses of Prescott’s body take over.”

“Explain my colds, then.” Mouse said, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“Spirits don’t do well in the cold, clearly. I didn’t say it was a complete theory.”

“Something to discuss at a later date. What do we do about this?”

“Ordinarily, I’d suggest staying in your spirit form while you read, but given the way Tevinters are about bound spirits, that may draw undue attention. You can do it with the books we bring back to the inn, but not here in the library. Instead, I’ll buy a cloth and wipe down all the books we pick before we start reading. That’s how Prescott handled it, and it should work for you.”

“We can hope,” Mouse said, retrieving the dropped book from the floor and handing her book back, “Just do me one favor.”

“What’s that?”

“Make sure the cloth you buy is something gaudy and not meant to be used for cleaning. I’ll take great pleasure in ruining a piece of Tevinter artistry.”

Amell laughed. “You’ve got a deal.”

***

Once the dust issue was sorted out, Amell and Mouse threw themselves into their research. Even with almost incontrovertible proof that Mouse was a spirit again, Amell still stuck to the rules she’d laid down when she’d lifted the shapeshifting spell and made Mouse alert her to anything he found that could be of use so she could judge for herself. But to show that she was inclined to trust him, she added several books on learning the Tevinter language to the pile of books they took back with them to the inn, encouraging Mouse to read them in the evenings. She even allowed him to stay in his human or spirit form to avoid damaging the books, though he still had to have glyphs cast on him. Even with the lack of sleep and his general ability to pick up on things quickly, Amell suspected it would take him a few months to become fully fluent, by which time she’d probably be ready to start lifting the restrictions on him. In the meantime, they could continue to focus on the books in the common tongue, which they were in no danger of running out of.

Two weeks into their work, Amell received an invitation from Magister Luciana, requesting her presence at a dinner party in a week. As Mouse had predicted, the invitation also included a note asking her to bring along her “servant”. She looked at Mouse apologetically, and he sighed and shrugged. “We might as well, just to keep up a good reputation. I’m sure we can find an excuse to leave after an hour or two.”

When the evening of the party rolled around, Amell once again spent a little longer on her appearance, complete with a jeweled headpiece she’d purchased just for the occasion. She did feel a little guilty about spending so much on a decorative piece, but it would be useful in its own way, and she could always sell it later if need be. Once she was sure her appearance was the best it could be, she and Mouse reluctantly made their way to the address given on the invitation.

When they arrived, Amell presented the invitation to the doorman, who scrutinized both of them carefully. “This is the spirit?” he asked, gesturing to Mouse.

“Yes,” Amell said, “Is there a problem?”

“Not at all. I was merely under the impression that it was a particularly powerful spirit. It doesn’t appear to be so, and that may be a disappointment to Magister Luciana.”

Amell looked over at Mouse, inclining her head. Mouse gave the doorman a dark look, but promptly shifted into his spirit form. “Much better,” the doorman said, “I’ll announce you now.”

Mouse’s mood didn’t much improve as the party went on, and Amell could understand why. While the guests all looked him over approvingly, they never addressed him directly, instead asking Amell questions about him. They also continued to refer to him as “it”, and smiled indulgently at her when she said “him” instead. When dinner was served, it became clear immediately that Mouse was supposed to be her personal valet, keeping her glass filled and standing beside her chair to do whatever she asked of him. Whenever Amell dared risk a glance at him, she could see he was keeping his expression blank, but she knew he’d be swearing again as soon as it was safe to do so.

Not that Amell was enjoying herself much, either. While she wouldn’t deny that Luciana’s home was stunning and the food was rich and flavorful, the company left a lot to be desired. While Luciana and her guests pressed her for stories of the Blight and praised her talents, she could detect the condescension underlying most of their words. They looked down on her for being from Ferelden, for not having much of a family name, and for not doing much to aid her fellow mages. They were also all too happy to brag about their exploits, while disparaging the efforts of others. The primary activities of the nobility seemed to be brown-nosing and backstabbing, and Amell quickly determined that the best way to avoid getting too caught up in it was to just smile, nod, and say encouraging words every so often.

It was an hour after dinner before Amell thought it would be safe to take her leave. Making her goodbyes and thanking her hostess for a lovely evening, she signaled to Mouse and the two of them made their escape, albeit in a dignified fashion. Mouse returned to his human form as soon as they were out of sight of the house, but he remained surprisingly silent. Amell suspected he was building up to quite the angry tirade, however, and allowed him to stew while she turned things over in her head. Halfway back to their inn, an idea came to her, and she smiled. Perhaps it would be enough to leave everybody satisfied.

When they were safely back in their room, Amell turned to Mouse before he could open his mouth. “I have a proposition for you, Mouse. I’m even willing to give you an enormous amount of trust to do it. I hope you don’t violate that trust.”

Mouse blinked in surprise. “Go on.”

“The Tevinters see us as a novelty at best, invisible at worst. They also assume that I treat you the way they treat _their _slaves, spirits or otherwise. They wouldn’t expect me to allow you the freedom to, say, wander the city at night to gather information. And none of them are aware that you have the ability to turn into a mouse, which can allow you to get into some very private places.”

The look on Mouse’s face was that of a child receiving a long-awaited item for their birthday. “You’d really let me do that?”

“I’d expect you to not get caught, and to keep spending a few nights a week working on learning Tevene. And murder is out of the question. But if you want to use the abilities at your disposal to learn the dirty little secrets of the Tevinter nobility, and to spread those secrets to interested parties, I’m not about to stop you.”

Mouse’s eyes glowed. “When can I begin?”

“Tonight, if you want. Just make sure you’re back here before dawn.”

Mouse nodded and immediately turned towards the door. Just as his hand touched the handle, however, he looked back at her. “Thank you. I assure you, no one will suspect my involvement, and especially not yours.”

Amell smiled. “I’m sure. You’ll have to let me know what you got up to; I wouldn’t mind living the adventure vicariously.”

“You’ll get a full account. After all, you can’t appreciate the end result if you don’t know what it took to get there.”

With that, he left the room, closing the door behind him. Amell turned her attention to removing her headpiece before settling down to make more notes from her books. She, at least, would do her best to have a quiet evening. Or at least have the appearance of one.


	7. Consequences

Amell and Mouse ended up spending a little over a year in Ventus, reading through what felt like at least a quarter of the library. While they didn’t find anything that would unquestionably prevent the Calling, they did come across several spells and potions that might be able to extend a Warden’s lifespan if used in conjunction with each other. It was a good start, but Amell felt they could do better.

Along the way, Mouse finally got a grasp of the language and began reading exclusively in Tevene, making careful notes and presenting them to Amell at the end of the day so she could see if there was anything she could use. Amell was near positive she could trust that the information was accurate, for three reasons. First, she had given Mouse explicit orders to report his findings honestly. Second, she was slowly starting to learn Tevene as well, so she’d eventually be able to check for herself. And third, she suspected Mouse wasn’t inclined to cause trouble for her when he was having much more fun toying with all the nobility in Ventus.

While Mouse never told her everything he did when he ventured out at night (they’d quickly agreed she needed some plausible deniability), she knew he was almost always successful at getting into the inner sanctums of the elite. Once there, he would poke around, looking for anything that could damage a reputation or at least cause gossip. After that, he found ways to disseminate that information. Amell didn’t ask how, but she did notice he was much less reluctant to attend parties, which they did at least once a month. Said parties were still full of backhanded compliments and open snobbery, but she enjoyed listening to the gossip, wondering how much of it had been helped along by Mouse.

Eventually, Amell and Mouse determined that they’d gone through all the books that had anything of potential value to the cause, meaning it was time to move on to another city. The plan was to travel across Tevinter, staying in any city that had a large library, before finally reaching the capital city of Minrathous, which was sure to have material the other cities didn’t. Perhaps the information contained there would be enough to devise a cure, but if not, they’d figure out the next step at that point.

And so the group of three set out again, all in reasonably high spirits. While the Mabari was sad to leave behind a steady source of high-quality food, he knew the odds were good he’d get similar treatment at the other cities they visited. Amell was glad to be making forward progress and to have a break from Tevinter attitudes. Mouse, meanwhile, just seemed satisfied at a job well done.

After two months, they arrived at Perivantium, which would also connect them to the Imperial Highway and make travelling a little easier. While the city wasn’t as grand as Ventus, it was still lavishly decorated, and the nobility was just as arrogant. The moment someone referred to Mouse as “it”, the two of them exchanged a glance, silently agreeing that they’d be starting the same routine here as well.

Indeed, the next few years passed in a similar cycle. The three of them would arrive in a new city; the Mabari would have to be billeted outside (though always well taken care of); Amell and Mouse spent their days doing research and at least one evening a month at some sort of social gathering; and Mouse spent most of his nights sneaking into the houses of the nobility to look for anything incriminating to spread about. It may have been repetitive, but it certainly wasn’t dull.

As they progressed across the country, their research continued to turn up things that could help but not permanently undo the effects of the Calling. Amell sent updates on her findings to Weisshaupt just before she left a city, hoping they might be able to make use of it. She also sent letters to her friends upon arriving in a new place, letting them know she was all right but not elaborating too much on the details of what was going on. She received letters in return, letting her know what was happening in other parts of Thedas. It was from them that she learned that Leliana had become an important figure within the Chantry, that Zevran was still “settling matters” with the Crows, and that a lot of her friends in Amaranthine were…gone. Neither Oghren or Howe could provide her with a lot of details—all they knew for sure was that Velanna disappeared when she claimed to have seen her sister in the Deep Roads, that Justice had abandoned Kristoff’s body, and that Anders had vanished after what sounded like a massively bloody fight that had involved both Wardens and Templars. It was disconcerting to hear, but since there was a possibility all three were alive, Amell tried not to dwell on it too much. She had to focus on the cure, after all.

Eventually, the group arrived at Minrathous. Amell had been expecting it to be the largest and grandest of all the cities, but instead, the place was showing its age. The buildings were falling apart; indeed, if it wasn’t for the magic she could sense emanating from the structures, they probably would have completely collapsed decades ago. There was also a lot more dirt and muck on the streets, and a seedy air that permeated the whole city, instead of only select areas. Nonetheless, the library was as vast as she’d been hoping, and as long as she and Mouse spent most of their day in there and then returned to their inn before sundown, she felt relatively safe. Mouse, on the other hand, seemed happy to venture out at night to cause a little trouble, though he always nodded when she asked him to be careful. Since he was always back in their room the next morning, it was safe to assume he was doing just that.

Despite the wealth of material at their disposal, Amell and Mouse still hadn’t come up with a definitive cure. They did, however, find stories buried in some ancient history books that suggested there might be herbs that could resist darkspawn corruption in the western regions of Thedas, as well as areas that had never suffered the Blight. It wasn’t much to go on, but it was something, and the two of them agreed that they would head west if they failed to find what they were looking for in Minrathous.

(It was also during their time in Minrathous that Amell stumbled across tales of the Rivaini, and their much more welcoming attitude towards spirits. Alas, her research wouldn’t be taking them in that direction, but one piece of information reminded her of a promise she’d made. She made up her mind then and there that it was high time she kept it. That night, she wrote letters to both Leliana and Zevran, figuring that if anyone could acquire what she was looking for, it was them. Leliana’s reply came two months later, regretfully saying that she currently didn’t have the resources or the contacts to get the item. A mere two weeks later, however, a small package arrived from Zevran. He explained it hadn’t been difficult to come up with an excuse to visit Rivain, as it bordered Antiva. Furthermore, he’d acquired the piece completely honestly, purchasing it outright. “It seems the nobility of the Wardens continues to impact me,” he wrote, “I’m not sure if I should thank you or curse you for it.” Amell laughed softly, then stored the small box in a deep corner of her pack for safekeeping, prepared to bring it out when the time was right.)

***

As Amell and Mouse were finishing up their research and starting to make plans to reach the western lands, Minrathous was suddenly filled with news and gossip about the goings-on in the rest of Thedas. Amell would have been inclined to ignore it, until she was told outright at one of her monthly forays into Tevinter society that the mages and Templars in the “less enlightened” regions were at war. After that, she started attending more parties and wrote letters to all her friends, trying to get the full story.

What she finally managed to piece together went thusly. There had been an incident in a town called Kirkwall, where a possessed mage (mostly referred to as “an abomination”) had used explosives, possibly enhanced by magic, to destroy the town’s chantry. The Knight-Commander of the Templars there had tried to massacre the entire Kirkwall Circle of Magi in retaliation, and the whole thing had ended with massive casualties on all sides, including civilians. The news had spread throughout the rest of Thedas, and other Circles had decided to use this as an inciting incident to gain their independence. Now the fighting had spread across most of the land, and though Leliana’s letter mentioned that the Divine was planning a peace talk, it was clear that the death toll was only going to mount. The Tevinters seemed amused by it all, glad that the mages were fighting for their freedom but mostly just relieved that the fight had no reason to spread to their lands. Their casual dismissal of so much innocent death infuriated Amell, and she tried to finish up her work as quickly as possible so she could leave Tevinter for good. Mouse didn’t say much one way or the other on the subject, but any Magister who said something particularly unkind would have some embarrassing secret revealed about them shortly thereafter.

Not wanting to get caught up in the war for a variety of reasons, Amell and Mouse decided that they would use the Imperial Highway to head back down through Tevinter, before crossing over into the Anderfels and stopping at Weisshaupt, which was surprisingly close to the border. That way, she could give her report to the First Warden in person, get more information about the war, and stock up on supplies before setting out for the West. With that settled, they packed their things, ingratiated themselves before the Magi council to thank them for all their help, and then left the city (the Mabari in tow, of course) at the first possible opportunity.

For a time, things were uneventful. Amell worried about what was going on in the rest of Thedas and about what they would find in the West, but as there wasn’t much she could do about either of those things at the moment, she tried not to dwell on it. Instead, she and Mouse spent their time talking about their research, trying to determine if some combination of the spells and techniques they’d found would be enough to stop the Calling. Some they could eliminate outright, others were inconclusive, but at least they were making things a little easier for the Wardens who would no doubt start trying to test out these cures while they were in the West.

When the group passed the city of Vol Dorma, they left the Highway and turned westward. A week or two of travel would, if Amell’s calculations were correct, take them straight to Weisshaupt. They would also be leaving Tevinter right in the middle of winter, and the whole team knew what _that _meant. Mouse just gave a resigned sigh and said he hoped he could at least make it a day or two before the symptoms struck. Amell chuckled sympathetically and rearranged some of the items in her pack in preparation for his impending illness.

At last, one afternoon, the three of them crossed over a small mountain range into the Anderfells. The change in temperature was immediate, and Mouse (who Amell had finally trusted with a pack of his own) threw on his cloak immediately. There was still enough sunlight to keep the area from being too cold, however, and Amell encouraged Mouse and the dog to move as quickly as possible, both to stay warm and to cover more ground before night fell. If they were lucky, they could reach Weisshaupt before Mouse fell ill, and then he could have a chance to get some rest in a proper bed before they braved the West.

It was well into late afternoon when the group came upon an odd sight. Most of the travellers they had encountered on the Imperial Highway were either merchants or noblemen, well-dressed and carrying themselves straight and tall, moving briskly and with purpose. This one, a man based on their build, was leaning heavily on a staff, wearing tattered clothes and muttering to himself. Despite looking very much the worse for wear, he continued to move forward, a sense of purpose radiating off him. Amell was curious how he could have come to this state and what his mission was, and since Grey Wardens aimed to help people…

“Ser?” she called out, withdrawing her staff just in case, “Are you all right? Do you need help?”

The man immediately straightened up and whipped around, and Amell’s eyes widened. Even through the matted beard and the tangled hair, she was able to recognize a fellow Warden. “Anders?” she said, shocked at his condition, “What happened to you?”

“_YOU!_” Amell involuntarily took a step back at the sound of Anders’ voice. Not just because of the volume or the anger in it, but because it didn’t sound like his voice. It was deeper, with a bit of a rasp to it, and it echoed slightly, like Mouse’s did. A moment later, she realized it sounded familiar too.

“Justice…?”

She had barely finished saying the name when Anders set upon her. Not with his staff, but with his bare hands. They wrapped around her throat, nails scraping her flesh, and she gasped from pain and lack of air. “It’s all because of you!” Anders—or was it Justice?—bellowed, tightening his grip, “If you hadn’t stepped down as Warden-Commander, the Templars wouldn’t have crept in among the order! I wouldn’t have been a wanted man! I would have been a hero, instead of reduced to _this!_”

His eyes went from brown to blue, the color quickly encompassing the entire socket. At the same time, tendrils of the same blue began to spread across his face and clothes, as though the blood in his veins had been lit with blue fire. Amell saw it all but barely registered it, as he applied still more pressure to her windpipe and her vision started to blur. She was vaguely aware of her dog barking, before abruptly yelping in pain and falling silent, but the only things she could really focus on was her lack of air and her fear.

Then a pulse rippled against her side, and Anders was blown backwards, releasing his hold on her. Amell collapsed to the ground, coughing, one hand on her throat as she tried to regain her breath. Looking up, she saw Anders get to his feet and pick up his staff, blue flame erupting from his hands and encircling his body. “So it’s you, is it, demon?” he said in Justice’s voice, “I should have known. Have you been ordered to protect your master whenever she’s in peril?”

“No,” Mouse replied, his voice ringing around the clearing even though he was speaking at a normal volume, “I’m just doing what makes sense. Protecting my party from a dangerous threat.”

Mouse finally entered Amell’s line of vision, and Amell received another shock. He was glowing gold, an aura surrounding him that made him look bigger than he actually was…and he had Amell’s staff in his hand. It must have fallen from her grasp when “Anders” had been choking her. Dimly, she felt as though she should call out, tell Mouse to stand down and demand answers from “Anders”, but it was as if she was rooted to the ground, her vocal chords paralyzed from pain and astonishment. She looked for signs of glyphs around her, and found none. It seemed that a higher power had decreed that she would merely observe what happened instead of being an active participant.

“Anders” let out a curt laugh. “A threat, perhaps. But only to those who wrong me.”

“And how have we wronged you? We parted on good terms, even considering your dislike of me, and we haven’t spoken in years. What could we have possibly done to earn your wrath?”

“You left!” “Anders” growled, “You left the Wardens when they were still rebuilding, gave the Templars an opportunity to move in to reclaim Anders. He had agreed to take in Justice out of kindness, and then, when the connection was still new, the Templars struck. If they had come later, or not been allowed to come at all…perhaps things would have been different. Instead, they were slaughtered, along with several Wardens. I had no choice but to flee to Kirkwall, and from there, my fate was sealed.”

“_You’re_ the abomination that started the war.” Mouse said, a note of surprise mixed in with his warning tone.

“It was the only way to get results!” “Anders” insisted, “The only way to ensure mages would be freed. It’s what Anders and Justice both wanted!”

“You speak of them in the past tense,” Mouse said, “What inhabits this body now?”

“The perfect amalgamation of them. I am Vengeance. And now that my primary goal has been achieved, I will dedicate my life to getting vengeance on those who wronged who I once was. The Templars in the Ferelden circle…the lingering demons in Blackmarsh…even those who ever brought harm to Kristoff. My first target was Weisshaupt, to punish the First Warden for allowing Anders and Justice to be attacked. But it seems the Maker has decided that you and our former Warden-Commander will be first.”

Mouse adjusted the staff and pointed it directly at Vengeance. “I’d like to see you try.”

“With pleasure, demon!” Vengeance responded, before sending a jet of blue fire at Mouse. Mouse waved his free hand and curved the fire away from him. Then he briefly pointed the staff at Amell, and she saw red streaks of light surrounding her, a sign that he had cast Force Field on her. Now she really _was_ paralyzed, but she couldn’t be hurt, either. Although none of her limbs could move, her eyes still worked, and she was able to watch what unfolded.

Mouse twirled the staff, then pointed it at Vengeance and fired another spell. Vengeance immediately tensed up, growling in pain, and Amell recognized the effects of Crushing Prison. With him temporarily immobilized, Mouse moved a little closer, looking Vengeance up and down. “You fucking _hypocrite_,” he spat, voice laden with contempt, “All those years, the two of you threw insults at me, cast aspersions on your commander for binding me. And yet the ‘superior’ spirit goes ahead and joins with the mage who ‘knew better’.”

“My intentions…were good. Yours…were not.” Vengeance managed to hiss out through the pain.

“Were they? Were they really?” Mouse said with angry sarcasm, “Because I’ve never possessed a living body. And I’ve never _blown up a building full of innocent people_.”

Vengeance twisted, breaking out of the spell’s hold. Mouse saw it and dove out of the way as Vengeance shot another jet of fire at him. “They weren’t innocent!” Vengeance said, “The Chantry is the force that insists mages be kept in line! The one who trains Templars to guard us! Everyone who serves that blighted place has blood on their hands!”

From the ground, Mouse struck Vengeance with another spell, Vengeance’s body taking on a purple tinge as the red from the spell mixed with his blue flames. “And what of the supplicants who were in there to pray?” Mouse asked as he rolled to the side and pushed himself back to his feet, “Or the people who were crushed by falling debris? Or the countless civilians and mages who are now dying in the war started by your actions? If anyone needs to be killed to achieve vengeance, it’s _you_.”

Vengeance snarled in rage and sent a Stonefist at Mouse, catching him in the chest. Mouse staggered back a few steps, then shook his head, found his footing, and hit Vengeance with a Cone of Cold. Vengeance was once again frozen in place, and Mouse took advantage of the brief respite to move a few steps away before sending out a Stonefist of his own, followed by a paralysis glyph. “How are you even still alive?” Mouse said, “The people of Kirkwall should have torn you to shreds for what you did.”

“There were some who believed in my cause,” Vengeance answered, haughtily proud, “They covered for my escape.”

“More fools they,” Mouse said, “I wonder if they’re regretting that decision now that most of Thedas is in chaos.”

Vengeance dispelled the glyph and sent a bolt of lightning in Mouse’s direction. Mouse moved out of the way, and though the bolt grazed his side, he seemed unperturbed, his attention still focused on Vengeance. “Do you truly want justice or vengeance? Turn yourself in. Maybe that will bring the worst of the fighting to an end and allow the Mages and Templars to come to an agreement.”

“No agreements!” Vengeance said, “No compromise! Mages must be entirely free, or all of this will have been for nothing!”

Mouse looked him over for a moment, poised on the balls of his feet in case he needed to retreat. Then he said, “Then the only way to stop you is to kill you?”

“I won’t let that happen!” Vengeance said, “There’s so much more I have to do! And I won’t let anyone stop me, especially you!”

With that, he sent a pulse of energy Mouse’s way, and even from her position, Amell recognized the sight and feel of it as a spell meant to drain an enemy of their mana. The spell connected, and she felt a brief flicker of panic. She had the pack containing the lyrium potions; would Mouse be able to get to her, dispell the force field, and find and drink a potion before Vengeance struck him down? Or would Vengeance make good on his threat?

Mouse paused again once the spell hit him, flexing his free hand experimentally. Then he dropped the staff and lowered his hands to the side, closing his eyes. It looked for all the world like he was waiting for the killing blow, and Amell’s fear increased. She wanted to shout at him to keep fighting, but was unable to do so. Vengeance, meanwhile, bared his teeth in a feral grin and moved forward, apparently wanting to make absolutely sure his spell hit true.

But then the glow around Mouse’s body brightened still further, and when his eyes abruptly snapped open, they were bright white and visible from where Amell was kneeling. Then he bent his knees slightly and jumped into the air. Instead of immediately landing back on the ground, he lifted his hands slowly upwards, and his body followed suit, until he was hovering at least twenty feet in the air. Vengeance stopped in his tracks and stared up at Mouse in shock, and in this case, Amell was in complete agreement with him. “What…how are you…how could you possibly…” Vengeance spluttered.

“I _was_ a demon, once,” Mouse replied, the glow around his body not only growing brighter, but now starting to ripple and change, “Just like you were a simple spirit of justice. But time and circumstances changed me as well as you. You may have become a spirit of vengeance…but I have the essence of an Old God. And it’s high time I put that to good use.”

He spread his arms wide, and still more golden light burst from him, augmenting his aura. For just a few moments, he was surrounded by a corona of light that Amell could have sworn was in the shape of a dragon. Then he thrust his hands forward, and an enormous beam of white light shot from his palms and moved right towards Vengeance. The light quickly engulfed him, hiding him from view, but Amell could hear a piercing scream of anger and pain. It was only when the scream stopped echoing around the clearing that the light abated. As Amell’s eyes adjusted, she saw the charred remains of what had once been her friend hit the ground. Moments later, the sight was obscured once more as Mouse gracefully touched down in front of the body. His glow was gradually fading, and Amell followed his movements, still trying to make sense of everything she’d seen. By the time he’d retrieved her staff and was making his way over to her, the glow had faded entirely, leaving him looking like a normal human again. If it wasn’t for a smell of ash in the air, one would have thought nothing had happened at all.

Mouse flicked the staff, dispelling the Force Field spell, then crouched beside her. “Are you all right?” he asked, setting the staff by her side. Not waiting for an answer, he gently pulled her hand away from her neck and grimaced. “His nails drew blood. Not enough to do any serious damage, but we should still apply a poultice.” Even as he said it, he reached over and drew one out of Amell’s pack, undoing the wrapping.

“The…the dog?” Amell asked weakly. Her shock over everything still had yet to fully abate, and taking stock of her items and party members was the only thing that made any sort of concrete sense to her at the moment.

“Vengeance knocked him unconscious while he was choking you. I didn’t have time to examine him. Give me a moment.”

Mouse smeared the herbs across Amell’s throat, then pressed her hand against them to hold them in place while he stood up and disappeared from view. He was back just a minute later. “The Mabari will be fine. Just a crack on the head. You might want to use an injury kit just in case, but otherwise…”

Amell nodded faintly and reached into her pack for a kit, her movements more automatic than borne out of conscious thought. As she started to push herself to her feet to tend to her dog, she was able to see over the top of Mouse’s shoulder, and she could see Vengeance’s body again. This time, her mind fully registered what it was, and suddenly the world came back into focus, the whole conversation between Vengeance and Mouse taking on proper context. The various revelations hit her like a Stonefist, and her legs buckled, sending her back to the ground. Mouse immediately reached out and grasped her shoulder to steady her. “Are you all right?” he said again, “Did he hit you with some other spell before I got to you?”

She shook her head, but as she stopped the motion, she felt the rest of her body start to shake instead. All the shock had finally worn off, and there was only one thing Amell could think to do in response.

She cried.

Sobs were wrenched out of her throat, with her making no attempt to quiet them. The tears poured from her eyes, obscuring her vision again, which was actually a relief; she didn’t want to have to see Anders’ body, or the look on Mouse’s face. She knew she looked like an undignified mess, but at the moment, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

She had no idea how long she stayed like that, though it felt like it went on for hours. She was aware of nothing but her inner pain and the tears on her cheeks. Finally, however, she started to regain feeling in the rest of her body. She could feel small rocks poking into her legs, and cool wind against her exposed skin. Above all, she felt a hand against her shoulder, though the touch was so light that it wasn’t too surprising that she hadn’t noticed it. As her sobbing reached a temporary lull, Mouse spoke, his voice hesitant and almost fearful. “Are you…all right?” he asked for the third time.

Amell swallowed and shook her head. “He didn’t hurt me,” she clarified between shaky breaths, “But…what he said…what he did…”

She wiped her eyes and looked at Mouse for the first time. He was looking at her with the wary expression the Templars had in the Circle, though unlike them, his eyes weren’t full of suspicion. If anything, he seemed confused, as if he had no idea how to handle someone having an emotional breakdown. Given what had just happened, it would have been comical if the situation wasn’t so bleak. She let out a giggle that was on the edge of hysterical, then took another shaky breath and finally managed to voice the thought that was uppermost in her mind.

“Was he right, Mouse? _Did _I cause this by leaving?”

“No,” Mouse said immediately, “I fail to see why you would even think that.”

“He said things changed after I left. Maybe…maybe I could have stopped it. Maybe this war wouldn’t…”

“Stop,” Mouse said, his hand now more firmly pressed on her shoulder, “Keep that up and you’ll blame yourself for everything that’s happened since the Blight. You’re smarter than that. You’re better than that.”

“Two Wardens are dead!” Amell shot back, more tears blurring her vision, “Two beings I considered friends! Two beings who wouldn’t have even _been _Wardens if it wasn’t for me!”

Mouse’s hand moved to rest gingerly against her back. “Justice did not cross the veil specifically because of you. And if you hadn’t brought Anders into the Wardens, I’m sure the Templars would have increased their punishments for his escapes until they finally decided it was easier to kill him. If anything, you saved his life.”

“But he…”

Mouse spoke over her smoothly. “We don’t know exactly how it came about that he merged with Justice, but you never put that idea in either of their heads. They chose to do it without your influence, sometime after you left. Whatever happened to them after that was because of their own decisions. From what we’ve heard, it’s unlikely that Vengeance used his Warden abilities to destroy the Kirkwall Chantry, so you can’t be held responsible for that either. And for all we know, war between the mages and Templars could have broken out with some other catalyst. I don’t see anything in this whole mess that could be laid at your feet.”

Amell heard a concerned whine, and glanced down to see her Mabari moving to sit beside her, resting his head on her lap. She stroked his head and started to apply the injury kit, grateful for the distraction. Mouse waited a moment, then resumed speaking.

“The only thing we don’t know for certain is if you could have prevented Templars from joining the Wardens and going after Anders. In the first place, we only have Vengeance’s word on what happened, and I think we can agree that he was…unreliable. And secondly, I doubt they were blatant about their intentions. They may have hidden what they were when they asked to join, or claimed they felt serving the Wardens was more important than being a Templar. Perhaps you would have seen through it, perhaps not; you and I aren’t infallible, loath as I am to admit it.”

Amell managed a weak laugh at that, and Mouse’s hand pressed against her back encouragingly as he continued. “It’s also possible that they would have decided to come after you too, for keeping me around. We could have wound up on the run ourselves, though hopefully with less disastrous results. We’ll never know for sure, but there’s no reason to assume the worst.”

Amell took a deep breath and nodded, her free hand coming up to wipe at her eyes. “I suppose not. Even so, he—they—were my friends and my responsibility once. There’s always going to be a part of me that feels a little guilty. It’s just the way we mortals are.”

“Then that’s one aspect of humanity I would prefer not to experience,” Mouse said, “Better to accept what happened and move on.” Amell shook her head slightly; it was moments like this that really brought home that Mouse would probably always be somewhat separated from the mortal experience. Mouse either didn’t notice or ignored the gesture, looking up at the sky instead. “The sun’s starting to go down. We should try to go another mile or two before making camp.”

Amell picked up her staff and pushed herself to her feet, the dog obligingly stepping back while Mouse rose with her, hand still on her back to keep her from falling. This time, she averted her eyes from where Vengeance lay, but she couldn’t ignore it entirely. “What do we do about…?”

“We leave it. If you still feel you need to atone somehow, you can tell the First Warden what happened and the general location of the body. I suppose they should know anyway, if only to be assured that the cause of the current war is dead. Let them decide if they want to give him a proper funeral. He’s in their territory, after all.”

Mouse’s words were more clinical than comforting, but it seemed reasonable enough. “All right,” she said, her voice a little hoarse from crying, “Let’s get moving.”

The three of them walked on in silence, knowing better than to discuss the matter further. If Amell kept her staff out and leant on it a little, Mouse felt no need to comment. If the Mabari chose to walk close enough to Amell to nudge or lick her hand every thirty paces, that was his choice. And if Mouse shifted position such that part of his cloak was draped around Amell as well, even though she didn’t need the extra warmth and that arrangement increased his exposure to the cold air, it wasn’t worth bringing up. It may have been appreciated, but it didn’t need to be addressed.


	8. Uncharted Territory

The remainder of the trip to Weisshaupt was uneventful, but very subdued. While Amell and Mouse didn’t talk about what had happened and tried to focus their attention on devising a cure, the memories would always come creeping back the minute Amell was no longer distracted. She also had nightmares about the encounter with Vengeance every night, which only made her all the more aware of the possibility of failing to find a cure. Every night, she wondered if the dreams would shift into dreams of darkspawn or an Archdemon, or if she’d start hearing whispers no one else could, the first signs of the Calling. While there was currently no indication that was the case, it didn’t make for particularly pleasant evenings, and she definitely wasn’t getting a full night’s sleep.

It was actually somewhat of a relief when Mouse inevitably fell ill. They went back to the old routine of having him turn into a mouse and stay in his pouch for the duration, and having him sneezing and complaining (though Amell did acknowledge that he did probably feel worse than usual, since it had been so long since he’d been sick) kept the memories from occupying her thoughts. Mouse also insisted she keep his pouch by her side while she slept so he could take advantage of her body heat, which wound up being useful for Amell as well. When the nightmares woke her up, she found it a little easier to get back to sleep if she rested her hand on the pouch and tried to concentrate on its steady quivering and the sound of Mouse’s congested breathing instead of dwelling on her nightmare. She knew the encounter with Vengeance would haunt her for a long time to come, but little distractions like that were starting to make it easier to bear.

After ten days, the small group arrived at Weisshaupt, and Amell asked Mouse to return to his human form. She wasn’t sure how many of the Wardens knew about her bond with Mouse, not to mention his abilities, so it was easier to just pass him off as a human companion of hers. He wasn’t thrilled to be more exposed to the cold, but was mollified by the assurance that they wouldn’t be moving on until he was well, and he’d be allowed to go straight to bed once they were given rooms. Indeed, Amell asked if he and her Mabari could be taken to their rooms to rest from the journey while she reported in to the First Warden, which the Wardens obliged her on. She saw Mouse give her a grateful smile over his shoulder as he moved away, which buoyed her up a little as she moved towards the First Warden’s office.

The First Warden took the news about Anders and Justice surprisingly calmly. Maybe it was because they hadn’t succeeded in attacking Weisshaupt, or because the two of them had been written off as lost causes after they disappeared, but he thanked her for dealing with the situation and said he’d get the news out that one of the causes of the current war was dead. He gave no indication of whether or not the body would get a proper burial, and Amell didn’t know if she should (or even wanted to) say something. She just stayed silent on the matter and felt stabs of both guilt and relief when the topic shifted to her plans for going West.

The next week was spent replenishing supplies, talking with other Wardens about the viability of the various spells and potions she’d come across in her research, and looking through the Weisshaupt library for any mention of the West. She had some help with that last one; not only did the other Wardens obligingly flip through some of the books so she wouldn’t have to go through the whole library herself, but she brought books with potential to Mouse’s room every evening, both to lighten her workload and to give him something to do. None of the books turned up much of anything helpful, but Mouse appreciated the gesture, and it was a double source of distraction for Amell, which she was more than happy with.

The evening studies with Mouse also all but confirmed something Amell had suspected ever since Mouse had sneezed in the Ventus library. Mouse’s sneezes were still small, despite having spent long stretches of time in his human form. While she doubted she’d ever be able to prove it, she suspected that having been forced into his mouse form immediately after changing his essence (that was what absorbing the power of the Archdemon had been, after all) and then being kept in that form for years had affected the way he sneezed. It was possible it had affected other things too, but since he didn’t have the same needs as humans, it was hard to tell for sure. There was also a chance things would change over time, but for now, his sneezes would remain tiny. When she posed this theory to Mouse, he nodded and then shrugged. “It makes sense, though I don’t think it matters much. In fact, it’s actually more of a benefit. It means I draw less attention to myself, and perhaps takes longer for a handkerchief to become unusable.” Even as he finished saying it, his eyes fluttered closed and he brought his current handkerchief to his face. “_Itshh! Ektshh!_” Amell, amused, shook her head and returned to her reading.

At last, Mouse said he felt well enough to travel, and he, Amell, and the Mabari set out across the Anderfels, heading for the West. Fortunately for Mouse, the region was known more for windstorms than snow, so he was unlikely to fall ill again that winter. Though of course, it all depended on what they found when they crossed into uncharted territory.

It took them several months to transverse the Anderfels, at which point they were confronted by a wide expanse of jungles known as the Donarks. No one had ever mapped out the area, and there was very little information on what was inside. There was every possibility that this little expedition would vanish, never to be heard from again. But Amell hadn’t come this far to give up now. If she died trying to save the Wardens, so be it.

She glanced down at her dog, who wagged his tail and gave an encouraging bark. Then she looked over at Mouse. He met her gaze and nodded. “It’s a learning experience few have ever encountered. That alone seems like a good enough reason to try.”

That got Amell to chuckle, and she nodded back. “All right then. Let’s go.”

And with that, she adjusted her pack and led the way into the jungles.

***

Much like extended time in the Deep Roads or the Fade, Amell lost all track of time. The trees were thick enough to block out the sky, but a dim light emanated from somewhere at all times, so they weren’t completely in the dark. Nevertheless, Mouse took to using his spirit form to light the way as they travelled, and they lit fires at night to keep creatures away. The temperature was always humid, even when it rained (which happened fairly regularly), which left Amell sweating and her Mabari panting. Mouse was the only one who seemed unaffected by it, but even if he was, Amell doubted he’d be inclined to complain. After all, temperatures like this reduced the odds of his falling ill.

Most of their days followed the same routine. The three of them would walk in a chosen direction, looking for anything interesting, be it signs of life or unfamiliar plants. If they _did _spot something, they would change course and travel in that direction in hopes of seeing more of it. When Amell and her dog were too tired to continue, they would stop and make camp, Mouse always taking the first watch. During Amell’s watch, she would spend her time trying her best to map out the ground they’d covered, as well as writing in a journal about what they’d seen. With luck, this could be used for future expeditions even if they failed.

When there _were _breaks in the routine, they were generally pretty big ones. Most of the animals they encountered were variations of creatures they’d seen before, who either fled or attacked (and were easy enough to dispatch), but occasionally, they ran into something a little more intimidating. Once it was a beast that had all the earmarks of a dragon, except there was no indication it had ever had wings. While that did mean they didn’t have to deal with aerial attacks, it was still just as tough to fight as any other dragon, and it was only the combination of Amell’s various paralyzing spells and Mouse’s spirit abilities that allowed them to win the day. Another time, it was a creature that seemed to be an amalgamation of other animals; its tail was a serpent, its body was almost horse-like, it had a pair of eagle wings, and the head appeared to be that of a lion. That one was a slightly less difficult fight, though her dog got a good kick in the ribs and Amell needed to rest for three days thanks to the snake sinking its fangs into her arm and injecting her with a good dose of venom. Mouse, of course, walked away unscathed, though he did at least have the decency not to gloat about it.

Sometimes, they would spend an extra day at camp to investigate the plants and other samples they’d gathered. While the dog went out to hunt for edible plants, animals, or water sources, Amell and Mouse would use the notes they’d amassed over the years and the occasional bit of magic to try to determine if the items had any medicinal or other useful value. Some they discarded, some they figured out were helpful, but most were labeled “inconclusive” and kept around just in case. Amell wrote down whatever they did find out, however, again for the sake of future expeditions. Even if they couldn’t figure it out, someone else might.

After what must have been at least several months of wandering around mostly blindly, they had a stroke of luck. They caught the faint sound of music and followed the sound, coming across a large village. Mouse immediately shifted back into his human form, and the three of them approached cautiously, hands raised to indicate as best they could that their intentions were peaceful. Their appearance still caused a commotion, and they were soon surrounded by the natives, who peered at them suspiciously. Amell tried telling them she meant them no harm in both the common tongue and Tevene, but her words didn’t seem to register with them; they just pointed weapons at her and said things she couldn’t understand. Just as she was starting to worry they were about to die, Mouse spoke up next to her.

“_Wimyn eio hipyn. Oe xik midzeen_.”

That gave the group pause. One of the older women stepped a little closer and said something to Mouse. Mouse nodded and replied “_Zumuot. Evogh tyu kumovikat._” The words made no sense to Amell, but it must have meant something to the woman, because she nodded and signaled for the others to lower their weapons. Then she pointed at Mouse and spoke to him, gesturing briefly to the jungle surrounding them. Mouse listened, then nodded when she stopped talking. “_Indurzud_.”

And with that, everyone stepped away, forming a path to the north of the settlement. Mouse nodded at all of them and started moving down the path. “What just happened?” Amell demanded, even as she obligingly followed behind him.

“We can set up camp some distance away from here, and then return. With luck, I’ll be able to explain our cause a little better, and then they can assist us.”

“How were you able to talk to them? Do they…do they speak in a Fade language?”

“Not exactly,” Mouse said, “But it’s clearly derived from there, since there are a lot of similarities.”

“_How??_” Amell said, unable to articulate herself any better than that. Fortunately, Mouse must have grasped her meaning.

“The Chantry says spirits were the first things the Maker created. Who’s to say that when He created humans, He didn’t reuse the spirit language?”

“I suppose that’s a possibility…” Amell said, “All I know for sure is that you’re going to have to start teaching it to me, or at least writing down basic structures of the language. If others come this way, they’re going to need to know how to communicate.”

Mouse smiled. “Gladly. On both counts.”

Once Mouse declared they were a safe distance away, they set up their camp, Mouse introducing Amell to the basics of the Fade language. After casting a few protective spells around the tents, the two of them headed right back for the settlement, the dog on their heels. Amell let Mouse be the first one to enter, hands raised and presumably reminding them of his and Amell’s peaceful intentions. His point must have come across, because they were immediately led to one of the lean-tos. Once someone pointed at the opening, the three of them promptly entered.

What followed was a very long conversation between Mouse and the woman he’d first spoken with, while Amell awkwardly sat next to him and tried to figure out based solely on body language what was being said. All she knew for sure was that nobody seemed particularly hostile, and that Mouse kept gesturing to her. She did her best to keep her expression neutral and not to shift around too much, but the longer he talked, the more nervous she became. She had a lot of evidence that Mouse was a spirit and not just putting on an act to let her guard down, but moments like this heightened her paranoia in that department.

At last, Mouse nodded and turned to Amell. “Provider Wanugi is willing to assist us. She and her people will help us identify the samples we’ve collected, and provide us with the healing herbs and spells that they use. In return, we need to help them with their hunts, teach them our own healing techniques, and spend the night in our own camp until we’ve gained their trust further.”

Amell nodded, stunned at the generosity. “How do I…?”

Mouse smiled. “_Oanx se_.”

Amell turned to Wanugi and bent her body in a seated bow. “_Oanx se_.”

Wanugi waved a hand before gesturing to the entrance to the lean-to and saying something. Interpreting it as some sort of “You’re welcome”, Amell allowed Mouse to leave first before following suit. Clearly, he’d be the one in charge here, at least for now.

As soon as they were out of the village and heading to their camp, Amell moved to walk beside Mouse. “_Oanx se _to you too. I don’t think I could have done this without you.”

Mouse smiled again. “_Mae Phlizor._ I presume I’ll be spending the evening teaching you my language?”

“For as long as I’m alert enough to follow along.” Amell confirmed.

Mouse chuckled. “I probably shouldn’t be giving you this information. A mage who knows the language of the Fade could be a dangerous thing, both to demons and to the Chantry. But then again, I’m not about to turn away someone who wants to learn.”

Amell grinned. “Then start your second lesson, Professor.”

***

Amell couldn’t say the next few weeks(?) were routine, but they did follow a pattern. When they arrived at the settlement after waking, they would almost immediately be sent out with a group, either to patrol the area for danger or to hunt for food. They encountered a few more of the dragons and amalgamations that way, but by working with their new allies (who called themselves the Chizoba), the fights were much shorter and less dangerous. Upon returning, she and Mouse were ushered into a lean-to (the dog stayed outside, where he stood watch) where the medical lessons began. One day, it would be Amell demonstrating (and Mouse translating) how to create poultices or cast spells, and the next day the Chizoban healers would return the favor. In the evenings (or what she assumed were evenings), she, Mouse, and the dog would return to their camp, where they would practice the Fade language, Amell eventually deciding to call it Fadese for simplicity’s sake. While there was always the concern in the back of her mind that something would go wrong, she had to admit that she was fascinated by all that she was learning. If she didn’t have a larger goal to be working towards, she’d have been content to stay here until she’d learned everything about the Chizoba.

Over time, the Chizoba warmed up to them. Instead of keeping watch, the Mabari could often be found playing with the village children when Amell and Mouse emerged from the medical lean-to. Instead of returning to their camp to eat, they were allowed to stay and eat with the Chizoba, which gave Amell a chance both to learn more about their culture and to try to practice the language. Amell was even allowed to treat minor wounds with whatever technique seemed best for the situation, as long as she was monitored by one of the healers. Whenever she got a chance, Amell recorded everything in her notebooks, hoping that it could be used to open some sort of diplomatic relations when she returned to Thedas.

(As it turned out, while she was mostly cut off from the outside world, she did get one surprising visit from it. A raven flew into their camp when she and her party returned one evening, a scroll tied to its leg. The raven was from Leliana, who reported that the peace talks between the Mages and Templars had somehow led to yet _another _crisis, involving a glowing rip in the sky, an ancient Tevinter magister, and various kinds of corruption. A new group called the Inquisition had been formed, and Leliana was its spymaster. Apparently this magister had made all the Grey Wardens in the region start to feel the effects of the Calling, and Leliana was using her resources to find Amell both to check in and to see if Amell had any advice. Amell assured her she hadn’t been affected by the false Calling, but didn’t have much else to offer. She did, however, send back an enchanted belt enhanced by some of the new spells she’d learned, hoping it would be of use to them. As the raven flew off, she wondered if she’d return to Thedas only to have to jump right back into the fray. Much as she’d enjoy having another accolade to her name, she felt like she deserved at least a one month break.)

In-between all this, Amell and Mouse made sure to consider the new techniques they were learning, trying to determine if they’d be able to use them to prevent the Calling. They all showed a lot of promise, but nothing looked like a true cure, only a way to extend Warden lifespans by another decade or so. It was something, to be sure, but Amell felt like they could do better.

Then, one day, she, Mouse, and healer Gojko were experimenting by combining healing herbs when there was a commotion outside. Amell tensed immediately before she registered that the voices were excited instead of angry, and immediately exited the lean-to. A crowd had gathered around a second group, who were triumphantly holding up a sack. As Amell watched, Wanugi approached the group, took the pouch, and touched their foreheads in what Amell had learned was a gesture of honor. As the group was led away by the others, Wanugi came to the medical lean-to and presented the sack to Amell. “«What’s this?»” Amell asked in Fadese.

“«What you have been seeking, hopefully»,” Wanugi answered, “«This is raceme, our rarest but most powerful healing herb. It is only used when all other cures have failed.»”

“«Why is that?»” Amell asked, nervousness intertwining with hope in her chest.

“«Two very simple reasons. First, it grows in a particularly dangerous set of conditions, so we only have a limited supply at hand. And second, if we used it for all ailments, it would lose its effectiveness for when we really needed it. Better to save it for the worst cases. From what you and Mouse have said, however, this Calling qualifies as a worst case.»”

Amell opened the sack. It was full to bursting with dark green leaves , with what almost looked like a streak of silver running down the middle of them. She looked back up at Wanugi in amazement. “«Did they pick all of these for me?»”

“«No,»” Wanugi said, though she tempered the word with a soft tone, “«We will keep half of them for ourselves. However, you may take the rest back to your Wardens, should they be effective.»”

Amell immediately crossed her arms and touched the points of her collarbone. “_Oanx se. _«You may have saved us all.»”

Wanugi held up her hand. “«I cannot simply give these to you. They are too valuable a resource, and my foragers went through much to bring these back. Before you can take them, we must be sure that they work.»”

Amell’s heart slammed into her ribs. With that restriction, there was only one way to find out if the raceme worked; she’d have to test it on herself. But there was no telling how things would play out. While she could hope for the best case scenario, there was every possibility that there would be no obvious effect, or have some sort of adverse reaction up to and including death. However, she didn’t see any other alternatives.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “«I understand. How do you use the raceme?»”

“«A leaf is chopped up and boiled in water. While it is still hot, though cool enough to drink, you must swallow the entire cup’s worth.»”

“«Very well,»” Amell said, “«I must make preparations. Tomorrow, we can make the cure.»”

Wanugi nodded back. “«Of course. Return to your camp.»”

Amell handed back the sack and began to head out of the village, Mouse and the Mabari quickly falling in behind her. “It’s really happening, isn’t it,” Mouse said, the words coming out as a statement rather than a question, “This is the key moment, the event that either extends or concludes your legacy. Are you nervous?”

“Terrified,” Amell said, “But I’ll try to face it the way I was prepared to face the Archdemon.”

“I’m sorry I can’t take the blow for you this time.” Mouse said.

Amell shook her head. “I appreciate the thought, but I wouldn’t have let you even if you could. You’ve done too much for me already. Besides, I refuse to have to go through the process of un-corrupting you a third time.”

Mouse chuckled faintly, though it sounded a little strained. “I suppose I’m thankful for that.”

They reached their camp, where Amell dispelled the protective measures. Then she turned and looked Mouse square in the face. “I have an order for you, Mouse. If the raceme doesn’t work, or if it cures the Calling but kills me in the process, you’re to return to Weisshaupt and give them my notes and everything we’ve found here that might be of use to them. After that, you’ll obviously be free to do as you wish and go where you like, but I’m hoping the binding spell will still extend to any order given before my death.”

Mouse nodded. “Even if it isn’t, I’ll carry it out anyway. It seems the least I can do.” Amell didn’t know if he’d feel the same way once he was actually freed, but she appreciated the gesture. Nodding at him, she sat down on a stone and pulled out her notebook, starting to write.

She spent the rest of the day writing in the notebook. First, she detailed everything she could think of that might be of use to the Wardens or to anyone wishing to explore the Donarks. Then, she wrote goodbyes to everyone, to be sent to the relevant parties after Mouse brought the notebook back to Weisshaupt. Finally, she wrote down a final message for Mouse, which she tore out of her notebook, folded into quarters, and slipped into the twine of the package Zevran had sent her from Rivain. She then put the package closer to the top of her pack, where Mouse would be sure to see it. Assuming he didn’t just drop everything to enjoy his freedom, it would hopefully give him the extra impetus to carry out her last requests.

***

The next day, Amell, Mouse, and the dog walked into the Chizoba village, but instead of joining with a hunting party, they made their way to the medical lean-to. Stopping just outside the entrance, Amell knelt down and gave her Mabari a hug. “Be a good boy,” she murmured, “And look out for Mouse for me. Spirit or not, he could use some company on the way back to Thedas.” The Mabari whined and nudged her cheek with his nose, but clearly understood all the hidden nuance in her statement. Patting his head, Amell stood up and entered the lean-to.

Wanugi and Gojko were waiting for her, a metal goblet already suspended over a small fire. “«It is almost ready,»” Wanugi said, “«Are you?»”

Amell nodded, set her pack down, and turned to Mouse. “I…” she began, then stopped and laughed weakly, “Funny, I’m not sure what to say.”

Mouse took her hand and pressed it. “Don’t say anything. You can say it once this is over and you’ve found the words.”

Amell nodded. “And if I can’t find them?”

“I’ll find them for you.”

“«Warden?»” Gojko said, “«The raceme should be cool in one minute.»”

Amell released Mouse’s hand and turned away, knowing she had to focus solely on the task at hand if she wanted to get through it. She and the others watched the goblet resting on the table, until Gojko poked it with a finger and nodded. Amell immediately reached out and picked it up. She almost wanted to make a toast, but her nerves and the hot metal in her hands was enough to dissuade her. Instead, she closed her eyes and drank as much as she could in one go. She paused once for breath, then finished it off. To her slight relief, the taste wasn’t foul, as the Joining drink was. There was a tang to it, almost spicy, and put her in mind of the exotic fruits she’d eaten at some of the Tevinter parties. _Well, at least it’s a final pleasant experience_, she thought, _And there’d be a certain poetry to having the Warden end be so similar yet different to its beginning._

That was the last coherent thought she remembered having.

***

**Pain, like fire licking at her insides. It pulsed through her body, causing her back to arch and arms to lash out. But no matter how she moved, the heat never seemed to fade.**

**A buzzing in her ears, almost sounding like the murmurs of darkspawn. But this seemed more like screaming. She couldn’t tell if it was in her head or if she was just hearing herself.**

**Dampness all around her, hot and sticky instead of cooling.**

**Swirling colors, a mass of green and brown, with occasional flashes of black or red.**

**Occasionally, a faint howl in the distance. A howl of anguish that matched how she felt.**

**Smells of earth and rain mixing with the strong scent of blood and sweat.**

**Intermittent pressure on her skin. Sometimes on her head, sometimes her shoulders. She would struggle, and the pressure would ease but remain. Not a threat, but also not appreciated.**

**Snatches of memories. Jowan, palm streaked with blood. Anders, eyes filling with blue sparks. The Archdemon shrieking. The Architect forcing her to sleep. A pride demon, surrounded by golden flame.**

Amell’s eyes snapped open. The light was dim, and she blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to adjust to it. For the first time in a long while, things were…quiet. She could hear talking and faint music somewhere nearby, but the constant buzzing was gone.

She moved an arm and leg tentatively, taking stock of herself. She felt weak—her limbs trembled noticeably—but it was discomfort rather than true pain. She was lying on something relatively soft, and there was cloth over most of her body, a blanket of some kind. She felt hot, but it was the heat she’d grown accustomed to here in the Donarks. Her throat was dry, her head ached dully, and her stomach seemed to simultaneously desire and reject the idea of food. None of this was telling her if the raceme had removed the darkspawn corruption from her, but it did highlight one important thing; she was alive.

Bracing herself, she pushed herself into a sitting position, only for the world to spin around her. She gasped and put a hand to her head, only for the gasp to catch in her throat and turn into a series of coughs. Immediately, a hand was on her shoulder, and she could hear the rustle of cloth. “Steady…Gojko’s gone to get you some water.”

Amell managed to swallow, the coughing passing for the moment. “Mouse.” she said, making sure her senses weren’t playing tricks on her.

“Yes,” Mouse said, lightly rubbing her shoulder, “The Mabari’s outside. He’ll be elated to hear that you’ve come to.”

“The…raceme….” Amell said slowly, not wanting to cough again. “Did…it…?”

Mouse’s tone registered before the word did, the smile and relief obvious even in that one syllable. “Yes.”

Despite it being the news she’d desperately wanted to hear, Amell couldn’t bring herself to feel excited. She wasn’t sure if she was too drained to fully appreciate it, or if it was due to lingering uncertainty. “How…do…you…know?”

“The fact that you sweated red-black blood for three days straight was the first clue,” Mouse replied, “The second was that Gojko and Wanugi both examined you yesterday and said they weren’t seeing any traces of corruption. And most importantly, even though I’ve lost most of the Archdemon’s bad qualities, there’s still a bit of the Blight in me. I can sense darkspawn and their decay, much like you Wardens. But I can’t sense it in you anymore.”

Amell felt something on her cheeks, and it took her a moment to realize she was crying. “Then…I’m…free.”

“Assuming you can regain your strength, yes. But now that you’re truly conscious, I have no doubt you’ll do so.”

The cloth rustled again, and Gojko appeared in front of her, holding another cup, this one made of wood. Mouse’s other hand took it from him and brought it to Amell’s lips. She sipped carefully, instinctively knowing to take it slow. While it felt cool and soothing, the act of swallowing it caused her to cough again. Mouse took the cup away until she finished, then put it back. She nodded, took a careful breath through her nose, and tried again.

It took an embarrassingly long amount of time, but she finally drained the cup. “That’s probably enough for now,” Mouse said, “Try to sleep. This one should be more restful.”

Amell obligingly lay back down, exhaustion quickly sweeping over her. As she closed her eyes, she felt the blanket move up to cover her shoulders, and heard Mouse murmur something. As her mind registered the words, her lips twitched, and she fell asleep smiling.

“Swift healing, Warden.”


	9. Promises

Amell guessed it was at least a week before she was able to get off her cot, and three or four days after that before she managed to leave the lean-to. Gojko and the other healers came and went, busy with other patients and life in the village, but Mouse was always present, ready to bring her food or water or provide something for her to hold on to when she tried standing or walking. He must have been bored, since he had no books to read and couldn’t always interact with the healers or patients, but for once, he didn’t complain. Amell wasn’t sure if she should find that heartening or worrying. She didn’t think his lack of griping signaled trickery on his part, but if he was only doing it because he didn’t think she had the energy for it, she must have been even worse off than she thought.

Eventually, though, she was able to move around under her own power (albeit leaning heavily on her staff), and was allowed to leave the lean-to. Her Mabari was so overjoyed to see her that he nearly knocked her to the ground trying to lick her face, though he was fortunately prevented from doing so by Amell bracing herself and by Mouse calling for the dog to slow down, meaning there was slightly less force when he ran into her. The dog immediately whined apologetically, but she just chuckled raspily and patted his head. “I’m glad you were worried about me,” she said, “But you should probably avoid being so effusive for a bit, all right?” He barked in agreement, and Amell smiled at him before slowly making her way to the central campfire, figuring that was as far as she’d be able to go before needing a rest.

Bit by bit, her strength returned. She stood up and walked around as frequently as she was allowed to, and spent more and more time awake instead of dozing. When Mouse noticed this, he started using her time in bed to engage her in conversations, presumably to help both of them pass the time. Sometimes it was making plans for when and how they would be leaving the Donarks, but more often than not it was similar to their old fireside conversations about humanity. It was comfortably familiar, and Amell was grateful for that; it helped remind her of a sense of normalcy and that her current condition would pass.

On the day she was able to walk around the whole settlement and cast three magic spells without feeling like she was about to collapse, Amell decided she was strong enough to start making the journey back to Thedas. She did still need to use her staff to help support her, but it was an aid rather than a necessity now, and as long as they moved slowly for a few more days and didn’t encounter anything too nasty, she was sure she’d be back to full strength relatively soon. Wanugi nevertheless insisted they be accompanied at least part of the way by some of her warriors, and Amell wasn’t about to refuse. They had a goodbye feast that night, Wanugi promising to be hospitable to anyone else from Thedas who came their way as long as they mentioned knowing Amell or Mouse, and handing over the sack of raceme, now half-full. And the next morning, Amell, Mouse, the dog, and four warriors began to walk back the way Amell had mapped out.

The group did encounter one of the wingless dragons four days into the journey, but they dispatched it relatively quickly, and Amell was able to keep to the back and pelt it with spells, so it wasn’t as draining as it could have been. Other than that fight, however, they didn’t encounter anything particularly difficult for what Amell counted as a week and a half. That was more than enough time for her to be able to stop walking without the aid of her staff and start properly pulling her weight once more. She’d assumed that would be the signal for their escort to return home, but they told her Wanugi had instructed them to follow along to the edge of the Donarks, to get a glimpse of the outside world and possibly to find new hunting grounds along the way. Amell certainly didn’t mind the company or the extra assistance in fighting, so they continued on.

Now that she was back at full strength, Amell was able to tell that the return journey was much easier than the trip out had been. While part of it was due to having a vague idea of where they were going thanks to the map she’d sketched out, it also felt like they weren’t encountering as many dangers, and by extension covering more ground in a day. She wasn’t sure if it was because she, Mouse, and the Mabari had already killed the worst dangers on the way in, or if the animals were staying away because of the larger size of the party, but she wasn’t about to complain about it. The sooner they left the jungle, the sooner she could bring the good news to the Wardens.

One day, Amell was conversing with the mage warrior Kiri when she heard her dog barking excitedly. Looking over in his direction, Amell immediately saw what he had; actual daylight. Even at this distance, it was blinding compared to the constant if dim light of the jungle, but the sight made Amell’s heart soar. She let the Mabari have his head and tear off towards the light, but while she was sorely tempted to follow his example, she forced herself to keep walking normally, not wanting to be rude to the people who had gotten her this far.

When they finally reached the outskirts of the jungles, everyone put their hands over their eyes as one, though Amell and Mouse adjusted much faster than the Chizoba did. Amell gave all four warriors her most effusive thanks for their help, and then took her leave of them, Mouse following behind her and the dog running back and forth between her and the semi-familiar ground of the Anderfels. She glanced back once, out of instinct and curiosity, and saw that their escort was still there, watching them go. Whether it was out of respect or curiosity of their own, Amell couldn’t say, but she was touched by the gesture. Giving them a final wave, she turned her attention back to the road ahead.

***

While the temperature in the Anderfels wasn’t as humid as it had been in the Donarks, the group quickly discovered that they had returned to Thedas in the late spring, so the climate was temperate enough that Mouse could readjust to it without falling ill, something everyone was grateful for. Without that limitation holding them back, the three of them did their best to cover as much ground as they could, sometimes travelling for an hour or so after sundown. Now that they were in more familiar (or at least properly mapped) territory and that much closer to bringing the raceme to the Wardens, Amell didn’t want to waste any time.

During their downtime at night, Amell wrote letters to her non-Warden friends, letting them know of the success of her journey. She also inquired into what exactly had happened with that crisis Leliana had written about; she’d glanced skyward once they were out of sight of the Donarks, and while she had seen a streak of green in the sky, it didn’t look anywhere near as catastrophic as Leliana’s letter had made it sound. Amell hoped that was an indication that things had been brought under control, and that her assistance wouldn’t be required. While she’d willingly admit that the last few years hadn’t exactly been strenuous, it had still been in service of a cause, and she deserved a little time to herself. Besides, if there wasn’t something that urgently required her attention, it would make it easier for her to keep a long overdue promise.

Two and a half months after leaving the Donarks, Amell spotted the Warden headquarters, and her heart quickened with anticipation and nerves. Glancing at her companions, she asked a silent question. Her dog responded by barking excitedly and sprinting down the road, while Mouse just smiled. “I can turn into a mouse and let you carry me, if you think that will help you get there faster.”

“It might,” Amell acknowledged, “Thank you.” Mouse nodded, and then changed into his mouse form. Once Amell had put him into the pouch at her hip and checked to make sure he was fully inside, she took a deep breath and then moved as fast as she could go without actually running. As much as she wanted to arrive at Weisshaupt before nightfall, she didn’t want to exhaust herself, either.

The sun was setting as Amell and the Mabari reached the final ridge that led to Weisshaupt. She stopped long enough to set Mouse down and instruct him to turn human again, so they wouldn’t have to deal with any awkward questions. Once he’d done so, they walked over the rise. Almost as soon as they did so, they heard a shout from somewhere in the upper regions of the fortress, and the doors swung open for them almost as soon as they approached them. As they walked inside, they were greeted with blaring trumpets and excited cheering. Amell couldn’t be sure if they were celebrating her safe return or somehow knew she’d found the cure, but was glad she’d apparently been missed.

While Mouse and the Mabari were led to rooms to rest and freshen up, Amell went straight to the First Warden’s office to present him with her notes on the Donarks and the bag of raceme. He listened to her report with interest, then stood up and offered her his hand. “Well done, Warden Amell. I’ll get in touch with other leaders of Thedas to let them know of your discoveries. Perhaps a proper expedition can be formed to open diplomatic negotiations with these Chizoba. In the meantime, however, we should start distributing this raceme to the Wardens here at Weisshaupt before sending it out to the other Warden strongholds. How would you suggest we go about it?”

“Based on my own experiences, I believe only one Warden should be taking it at a time. The raceme takes several days to purge the darkspawn corruption from the body, and then the Warden will need at least a month to recover their strength. I’d say one Warden should be given the cure every three weeks, to make sure there are always some on hand in case they’re needed. We should start with the ones who are most likely to start feeling the effects of the Calling, and once they’ve been treated, move to a lots system.”

The First Warden nodded. “We’ll start with Warden Hexam tomorrow morning. I’ll want you on hand to make sure things are working.”

Amell nodded. “I’ll do what I can, though I’m not sure how much help I’ll be. My companion was the one who really saw what I went through.”

“Make sure he’s there as well, then. Dismissed.” Amell gave a brief salute and then made her way to her rooms. The request did mean she’d need to put off her promise for a little longer, but assuming everything went well, she’d be able to keep it in about a week.

***

Just after dawn the next morning, Amell, Mouse, several healers, and the First Warden all gathered in Warden Hexam’s room. As everyone watched, Amell cut and ground up the raceme the way she’d been shown by Wanugi, before putting it into a cup full of water and putting the cup in the fire. Ten minutes later, the water was boiling, and she gingerly removed the cup and set it on the table. While she waited for it to cool, she gave Hexam what she hoped was a reassuring glance. “I won’t lie to you, the experience isn’t going to be pleasant. But if you’re strong and sure of yourself, you’ll come through it.”

Hexam nodded, though her expression was still nervous. The First Warden spoke up next. “Thank you for being the first—well, second—one to try this. If this works, you’ll be the sign to the others that we’re free of one of our worst burdens.”

Hexam managed a weak smile. “No pressure, eh? Well, since I think I was starting to hear the Calling anyway, I might as well be the practice case. It can’t be much worse than what would have been waiting for me in the Deep Roads.”

Amell didn’t respond to that, as she couldn’t say for sure if Hexam was right or not. Based on her own experiences, though, she thought the other Warden’s statement was a matter of debate. She reached out with a finger and lightly touched the cup. “I think it’s cool enough. Good luck.”

Hexam tested the cup herself, then picked it up. “Here goes nothing.” she said, raising the cup in the direction of Amell and the First Warden. Then she drank most of the medicine in one go, with just one quick pause for breath before finishing it off.

Amell took the cup from her and gestured to the healers. “Get her on her bed. It’ll be more comfortable for her there.”

The healers had just managed to wrap their hands around Hexam’s forearms when her eyes glazed over and she went limp, starting to crumple to the ground. The healers quickly tightened their grip and brought Hexam to the bed, laying her on her back. “What happens now?” Amell asked Mouse.

“A lot of thrashing around and incoherent babbling,” Mouse replied, “The blood sweating starts after about a day.”

Sure enough, Hexam grimaced and started to shift on the bed, groaning softly. “What can we do?” asked one of the healers.

“There’s not much you _can_ do,” Mouse answered, “Keep her from falling off the bed or otherwise injuring herself, and once the blood comes, wipe it away with cool water. When the blood finally stops, that’s when we need to wait and see if she comes out of it.”

Amell looked at the First Warden. “Do you want us to stay and make sure things are progressing properly?”

“Yes. Mouse can let us know if things are going according to plan, and the healers need to know what to expect when we start distributing this cure to the other Wardens. As for you, you need to be able to see what it’s like from the other side. Assuming this works, I’ll have a mission for you.”

Amell nodded. “Yes, Ser.” He nodded back, then glanced over at Hexam before leaving the room. Amell gave Mouse’s shoulder a quick squeeze. “You heard the First Warden. I guess we’ll be staying here for a few days.”

Mouse shrugged. “I can think of worse places to be confined.”

Hexam let out a loud shout, kicking out with a leg, and the two healers rushed over to keep her steady. Amell, meanwhile, moved to the door and opened it a crack, waiting for a passing servant. As long as she and Mouse were going to be stuck in here, she might as well make sure they had some reading material on hand.

***

The next four days weren’t particularly pleasant. Hexam alternated between periods of lying completely unmoving, only her shallow breaths indicating she was still alive, and lashing out at invisible assailants while shouting. While Mouse was able to read unperturbed (he looked up occasionally to let the others know that things were progressing normally as far as he could see), Amell was left wincing in a combination of sympathy and frustration. She got what little sleep she could during Hexam’s quiet periods, but mostly spent her time helping the healers tend to Hexam, be that holding her shoulder until her movements calmed or wiping away the blood.

Oh, the blood. Even with Mouse’s warning that it was coming, the sight of dark red liquid oozing out of Hexam’s arms and temple was unnerving. She wasn’t too proud to admit she half-screamed at the sight. Mouse reassured her it was normal and a good sign, but he seemed to take a bit of satisfaction in Amell’s fear. Amell took consolation in the fact that the healers seemed similarly unsettled, though they retained their professionalism and began preparing bowls of cool water.

As there were no windows in Hexam’s room and they kept the door closed to minimize alarming the other inhabitants of the fortress, Amell wasn’t completely sure of the passage of time. All she knew was that the blood on Hexam’s body seemed to return almost as soon as she and the healers had wiped it away, and Hexam’s voice was gradually getting more and more hoarse as she continued to yell. Things continued in what felt like an endless cycle, at least until the moment Healer Lydgate pointed out that the blood hadn’t immediately returned after wiping down Hexam’s forehead. After that, Amell and the other two stood close by the bed, watching intently to see if there would be any other changes. Mouse, on the other hand, glanced over the top of his book, nodded, and then returned to his reading.

When a servant arrived with food, Amell told him to fetch the First Warden, as they were coming close to the point when Hexam would hopefully come out of her daze. To the First Warden’s credit, it didn’t take long for him to arrive, and he took up vigil beside Amell. By now, there hadn’t been any trace of blood for quite some time, and Hexam hadn’t made any violent motions, either. The four of them watched her chest rise and fall, occasionally glancing at her face to check for signs of wakefulness. Even with eight pairs of eyes looking, however, it still came as a surprise when Hexam’s eyes flew open. Much like Amell had done, she lay there for a minute, then gingerly began moving her limbs. “Welcome back,” the First Warden said, “How do you feel?”

“Awful.” Hexam croaked, before coughing. Amell signaled for Lydgate to bring over some water. Mouse, meanwhile, got up from his chair and stood on Amell’s other side, looking Hexam over intently. Then he made eye contact with Amell and gave her a tiny nod. Amell knew that meant he couldn’t sense the corruption inside Hexam anymore, and she felt a bit of tension leave her shoulders.

Lydgate returned with the water, helped Hexam sit up, and then put the cup to her lips. She sipped, coughed a few times, then sipped again. After repeating this routine a few times, she seemed up for speaking. “Am I…all right?”

“I think so,” Amell said, “Though Healer Bute will need to use her magic to check. What do you say, Mouse?”

Mouse obligingly pretended to look over Hexam again. “She seems to have followed the same path you did. As far as I can tell, she’s free of the corruption.”

Hexam exhaled shakily, tears starting to leak from her eyes. “Thank…the Maker.”

Bute was already casting spells to examine Hexam. After passing her hands down the entirety of Hexam’s body, she looked at the others with a mixture of joy and satisfaction. “I’m not seeing any trace of the darkspawn inside her. I believe she’s cured.”

The tears started moving even faster down Hexam’s cheeks. The First Warden rested his hand on her shoulder. “Well done. Rest and recover, and I’ll tell the others the good news. There will be plenty of celebrating tonight, but I’ll make sure we hold a second celebration as soon as you’re strong enough to attend.”

“Thank you…Ser.” Hexam said, trying to shift position to get more comfortable. As Bute and Lydgate moved to assist her, the First Warden left. After a moment, Amell and Mouse followed after him, not wanting to crowd and overwhelm the patient.

The First Warden glanced behind him when he heard their footsteps, and smiled slightly. “It appears that your cure is indeed a cure. Well done to you, too. I’ll be sure to give you the proper honors as soon as I can determine how best to do it.”

“I appreciate that, Ser.” Amell said with a bow of her head.

“Go to your rooms and rest,” the First Warden ordered gently, “You’ll want to be able to fully appreciate the revelry that’s about to ensue.”

“Yes, Ser.” Amell said with a faint chuckle, and peeled off towards her quarters. Once she was inside (and had finished being greeted by her dog), she looked over at Mouse. “You can go to the library if you want while I’m sleeping. No need for you to stay at another bedside, especially when it’s not needed. I’ll come find you when I wake up and we can go down to the main hall together.”

“With pleasure,” Mouse said, “Until this evening, then.”

He promptly left the room, perhaps to make sure she would have to chase after him if she changed her mind. Amell smiled slightly and changed into her nightshirt. Just before she moved to the bed, however, she went to her pack and removed the package, setting it on the desk. Then she disposed of the note and slipped under the bedcovers. Given that it was a time of celebration, it seemed only fitting that she contribute to it in a slightly different way.

***

As predicted, the other Wardens reacted enthusiastically to the news that they would no longer have to confront the Calling. There was drinking, feasting, raucous songs, and plenty of cheering. Amell received a lot of slaps on the back, one toast in her honor, and plenty of questions about what to expect and when the others could start taking the cure. She enjoyed the accolades and an excuse to relax a little after all she’d been through, but her thoughts kept drifting to the package upstairs. At last, when she was no longer able to even temporarily distract herself from the thought, she decided the time had come. Looking around the hall, she saw Mouse standing in a corner, watching the goings-on with mild amusement. She made her way over to him and gestured towards the door. “Let’s go. I think most of the Wardens are drunk enough that we won’t be missed.” Mouse seemed a bit surprised, but followed after her.

He waited until they were approaching their rooms before he asked “Any particular reason you chose to leave a party where you’re practically the guest of honor?”

“I’ve spent so much time in small groups in the past few years that I’ve become unaccustomed to large crushes of people. Something I’ll need to get used to again. More importantly, though, I have something for you.”

Mouse cocked his head, eyes flashing briefly. “Oh?”

Amell let him into her room, closing the door behind her. Then she picked up the package and presented it to him. “Here.”

Mouse looked from her to the package, not exactly suspicious but also clearly unsure what to make of this. It didn’t take long for his curiosity to win out, though, and he gingerly undid the wrapping, revealing a small brown box. Opening _that_, he blinked for a few moments before reaching inside and withdrawing a silver necklace and chain, the pendant carved with intricate patterns. He spun it around, looking it over, then lowered it and looked back at Amell. “It’s nice enough, I suppose. But why…?”

“You’ll understand in a moment,” Amell said, taking the necklace and box away from him, “Sit down.”

Mouse obligingly sat in the nearest chair. Amell took a lyrium potion from her pack, then moved to stand beside him. Setting the items on the side table, she began to cast a spell. She was focused on getting the gestures right, but she was still able to hear Mouse’s gasp when a silver thread appeared around his wrist. Seconds later, her skin tingled, and she saw the thread appear around her own wrist, as bright as the day it had first been tied to her. She glanced up just long enough to see Mouse looking at her in wonder, then lifted her hands and brought them sharply downward. The thread snapped with a soft jingle, and then it faded from view, the tingling subsiding shortly thereafter. As Mouse lifted his arm and stared at it, Amell picked up the necklace and hung it around his neck. Then she downed the lyrium potion and pointed her hands at the pendant. Blue light flowed from her hands into the pendant, causing it to glow. Once it was fully suffused, Amell lowered her hands.

“There. You’re free. And that amulet ensures you can never be bound again as long as you wear it.”

Mouse cupped the amulet in his hand and gazed at it, one finger tracing the patterns. Then he looked up at her. “You really did it. You’re aware of the risks, and you still did it.”

“I promised you I would, long ago,” Amell reminded him, “And I trust you to keep yourself from falling prey to corruption again.”

“I can’t…you are…” Mouse shook his head. “Odd. I’m not quite sure what to do with myself now.”

“Whatever comes to your mind. There are plenty of places around Thedas we never explored, and probably a lot of reading material you’ve never heard of. I’d suggest avoiding Tevinter or anywhere where you think your worst nature could exert itself, but otherwise, you’re free to go wherever you wish. Besides, some of your power was probably cut off from you while you were bound. This seems like a prime opportunity to see just what you’re capable of.”

“I suppose it is, at that.” Mouse said, getting to his feet. He did it slowly, as though he was still coming to terms with the fact that it was completely his choice to do so. He looked around, then met her eyes again. “You wouldn’t mind if I just…left?”

Amell chuckled. “Well, I’d hope you’d at least say goodbye to me first. But no, I don’t mind. After spending over a decade following my orders, I can’t blame you for wanting some time to yourself. If anyone asks where you’ve gone, I’ll tell them you had other business to attend to now that our search for the cure has been successful. Since no one here knows about our previous arrangement, I doubt they’ll think twice about it.”

Mouse hesitated, then held out a hand. “Thank you,” he said softly, “For keeping your word. For treating me so well. For seeing my potential. For…everything.”

Amell clasped his hand. “You’re welcome. But in the end, I think we’re even. I wouldn’t even be alive if it wasn’t for you, and most of my accomplishments were made easier because of your help.”

Mouse smiled wryly. “What _will _you do without me?”

“I’ll think of something,” Amell responded, “Though if you’re ever so inclined…I wouldn’t object to your coming round to visit me every once in a while. Just to see what you’ve been up to and catch up on old times.”

“I think I can manage that.” Mouse said.

He let go of her hand and briefly patted the head of the Mabari, who had been watching all of this curiously and now whined sadly. Mouse laughed lightly. “How times have changed. I remember a time when you’d have been glad to see the back of me.”

The dog nudged Mouse’s hand with his nose, then obligingly gave a playful growl. Mouse scratched behind the dog’s ears, then looked back at Amell. “Best of luck, Warden. I hope I find you in good health and spirits when we meet again.”

Amell nodded, not wanting to prolong the goodbye. Mouse nodded back before running his hands down his body, apparently conducting an internal examination. Then he closed his eyes, brow furrowing slightly. There was a bright flash of light, and when Amell’s eyes readjusted, Mouse was gone.


	10. Bonding

Amell spent another month at Weisshaupt, mostly to monitor Hexam’s recovery and share in the official celebration when Hexam was declared mostly recovered. In that time, she received even more praise for her efforts, as well as being informed that a new medal was going to be created and named after her “for giving almost everything to aid the Wardens.” She was grateful for the appreciation, especially given how she’d been considered a menace for most of her life. It might not change the general opinion of mages, especially not after the recent conflict, but she still considered it a small victory.

Two days after the Hexam celebration, the First Warden called Amell into his office. “I told you I had a mission for you, and it’s high time I sent you on it. Once you’ve completed it, however, you’re free to take a well-deserved break.”

“Thank you, Ser,” Amell said, “What’s the mission?”

“One I think you’ll be more than happy to carry out. I want you to go back to Amaranthine and administer the cure there. It seems fitting that you be the one to assist them.”

“Yes, Ser,” Amell agreed with a smile, “When do you want me to leave?”

“As soon as you’re able. Talk to Healer Danton to get the raceme; I think you’ll need about fifty, plus a few extras in case some are destroyed along the way.”

“I’ll leave in the morning, then. Unless you want to have another feast to see me off.”

“Would that we could,” the First Warden said with a laugh, “But we need to save _some _resources. Never think that we aren’t grateful for what you’ve done, however. I’ll continue to try to come up with ways to reward you for your efforts.”

“The thought is appreciated just as much as the actions,” Amell said, before giving a salute, “Now then, shall I go and make preparations for my journey?”

The First Warden nodded. “Dismissed. And good luck.”

Amell spent the rest of that day packing and making her goodbyes, going to bed early to get as much rest as possible. The next morning, she woke up with the sun and gathered up her things. As she slung her pack over her shoulders, she saw her hip pouch resting on the table where she’d left it. She started to reach for it out of habit, then stopped, realizing she didn’t need it any more. Withdrawing her hand, she left it where it was and whistled for her dog to accompany her. Let the Wardens decide what they wanted to do with it.

After a quick meal, Amell left the fortress, saying a few more goodbyes on her way out. Then she was on the road again, the Mabari alternating between trotting at her side and running ahead. As much as Amell enjoyed the fresh air and having a goal to work towards, there was a part of her that felt…off. It wasn’t until she glanced behind her and saw that Weisshaupt had disappeared from view that she figured out what it was.

While she’d been with the other Wardens, there had been people to talk to and activities to keep her engaged and distracted. But now that she was on her own, it was really hitting her that Mouse was gone. No more philosophical discussions by the campfire. No more extra assistance, be it working out a puzzle or taking down an enemy. She even missed his sarcastic jibes and complaining about various human frailties. While he’d never felt the same way, she’d grown to consider him a friend, especially since he’d been with her through almost all her adventures. No one else, not even her Mabari, had that distinction. Maybe that was why she felt slightly empty.

The feeling would pass, of course. It would probably take some time, but she’d come to terms with it, the same way she’d accepted being Warden-Commander. And if Mouse kept his promise to visit her on occasion, she’d be able to think of him as she did all her other friends and former companions. For now, though, not having anybody to talk to to help pass the time was going to sting.

***

While Amell probably could have used her previous route through Tevinter to reach Amaranthine, she decided she didn’t want to have to deal with the snobbery and power plays. Instead, she’d take a route through Nevarra, until she reached the Waking Sea and was able to get passage to Amaranthine. In fact, according to her map, this route would actually be shorter. That was fine by her; the sooner she could cure other Wardens, the better.

Despite the reduced time, though, it was still a fairly long walk, made slightly longer by the various things that attacked her on the way. No darkspawn this time, but the crisis Leliana had written her about (and elaborated on in her last letter) had apparently unsettled both animals and various groups of people, making them more inclined to attack travellers. Compared to some of the things she’d faced, Amell was able to take them down fairly easily. If anything, the biggest difficulty with them was the loss of time, poultices, and lyrium. But at least she was occasionally able to get an item for her troubles.

Thanks to those delays, it took about half a month before she and the Mabari were even close to Nevarra’s borders. When she realized they’d reach the region the following day, Amell perked up slightly; it was a new city, meaning new things to see and explore. And, hopefully, less things to fight. She took the first watch, trying to recall what she’d read of Nevarra, then traded off with her Mabari after four hours. Even so, her speculation over what Nevarra would be like made it difficult for her to fall asleep.

Amell was roused the next morning by a bark from outside. She listened carefully, but there was no further barking, growling, or sounds of a scuffle. Furthermore, the bark had sounded happy rather than angry. Assuming her Mabari had dug up something interesting or spotted some friendly wildlife, Amell didn’t spring into action, instead stretching and allowing herself to wake up a little more naturally. Then she got dressed, removed items for making breakfast, and packed up everything else. Once she was satisfied, she finally emerged from the tent…and dropped everything in her arms in shock.

Mouse was sitting by the campfire, the Mabari sitting contentedly by his side. Mouse glanced over at the sound of the items crashing to the ground and gave her a slight smile. “Good morning.”

“What are you _doing _here?” Amell asked, some of her composure returning, “I’d have thought you’d still be gallivanting about, enjoying your new freedom.”

“I assure you, I took full advantage of it,” Mouse said, scratching behind the Mabari’s ears, “I’ve gone across Thedas, examining the libraries of all the major cities. I spent a week in Rivain just to see if they really _do _revere spirits as much as they say. I’ve hovered above mountains and dived deep into oceans, just to see what I’m capable of. And in the course of doing all that, I came to a realization.”

Amell bent down to pick up her things. “And what would that be?”

“Unless I’m killed in a fight, I’m functionally immortal. I have centuries ahead of me to explore Thedas and beyond. On the other hand, a human lifespan is less than a century. And mortals can come up with ideas spirits can never conceive of.”

Amell started to smile, her heart lightening. “So you want someone to show you how it’s done?”

Mouse shook his head. “No. Well, yes, but…it’s more interesting to get alternate perspectives on things, instead of just encountering them on your own. I might as well take advantage of a resource for as long as it’s available.” He gave her a sideways look, but it wasn’t his usual sly glance. If anything, it was…hesitant. “That is, if you don’t object.”

Amell grinned broadly. “Not at all.”

Mouse’s face seemed to relax, and tension appeared to leave his back and shoulders. “Good. I confess, I don’t know what I would have done with myself if you said no. Left to verbally spar with Zevran, I im…”

He broke off, blinking. Then his hand dove to his side, withdrawing a handkerchief and bringing it to his face. “_At-kish!_”

Amell chuckled, sitting down next to him and setting a pan over the fire. “Swift healing.”

Mouse sighed. “My own fault. I told you I went to the mountains. I really should have considered that they tend to have much lower temper…_at-chh!_”

“Swift healing. Has this just started?”

Mouse shrugged. “Hard to say. I was cold for two days, then I started shivering yesterday afternoon and began sneezing in the evening.”

“Well, maybe we can keep you from getting much worse. You can…” Amell stopped, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I left your pouch at Weisshaupt.”

“That shouldn’t matter,” Mouse replied, detaching his own pouch of handkerchiefs, “I seem to recall you claiming you were keeping a second pouch around for a friend. Unless you changed your mind somewhere along the way.”

Amell’s smile felt like it would split her cheeks. “No. It’s still here.” She set some meat on the pan, then reached over and opened up her pauldron. “See?”

Mouse smiled and set his handkerchiefs on the log. Then there was a flash of light, and a tawny-gold mouse scampered across to her, shooting up her arm and darting into the pouch. Amell slipped a fresh handkerchief inside with him before letting the pouch fall closed. Then she turned her attention to the food, still smiling. “So…who’s going to relate their adventures first?”


	11. Epilogue

Amell stuck her head inside the library. “How are you feeling, Mouse?”

Mouse looked over at her, resting his latest book on his lap. “Well enough.” Then he grimaced. “It’s not time for another reducer, is it?”

Amell chuckled and shook her head. “It’s only been two hours. Either you’ve been really engaged in your reading, or your senses are still dulled enough to not be able to properly gauge the passage of time.”

“Allow me to at least claim the former,” Mouse replied, adjusting the blanket around his shoulders, “I like having _some _dignity.”

“I’ve seen you crash into a wall thanks to a sneeze,” Amell reminded him, “You can’t hide your occasional lapse of poise from me.”

“Yes, but I can try to _keep _those lapses occasional. And it helps if you play along.”

“In public, certainly. But in private, I should be allowed a bit of teasing. Especially since I’m the one who supplies you with medicine and clean handkerchiefs.”

“I could handle that myself, if I chose to,” Mouse said, “But it’s so much more satisfying having a human to tend to my every…”

His voice trailed off, eyes unfocusing slightly. There was movement underneath the blanket, and then a hand holding a handkerchief came up to his face. “_Nnt-chh!_”

“Swift healing,” Amell said, smiling slightly, “Well, I suppose you can be allowed that indulgence when you’re sick, just as I can indulge in teasing. Consider it a fair tradeoff.”

Mouse smiled back, rubbing at his nose. “Very well.”

He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, repressing a yawn. “You should probably get some sleep,” Amell said, “Rest’s the best cure for a cold, after all.”

“I want to finish this chapter first,” Mouse said, picking up his book again, “It’s rubbish, but fascinating in its awfulness at the same time. I want to see just how wrong this Tenney Firmin can be about his conjectures regarding the Fade.”

Amell shrugged. “Suit yourself. As long as it’s entertaining, I suppose.” With that, she left him to his reading, returning to her room to do some reading of her own.

After she had helped cure the Wardens at Amaranthine, the First Warden had informed her that, in light of all she’d done for the Wardens, Ferelden, and Thedas, she could consider herself retired from active duty. She’d still be expected to pitch in when a crisis arose, but she could have her pick of how and where she spent her time. After some consideration, Amell had decided to stay in Amaranthine, taking a house in town and visiting Vigil’s Keep once a week. Sometimes she helped new recruits with training, other times she assisted in research, and sometimes, if there was a mission or expedition that sounded interesting or in an area she was familiar with, she would tag along to lend a hand. When nothing particularly exciting was going on at the Keep, she’d turn her attention to smaller jobs being requested by various parties. And sometimes, she’d leave to go exploring other areas of Thedas, claiming to be doing it to learn new things that could help the Wardens but mostly just for the thrill of seeing new places. Besides, she _did _wind up bringing back interesting new ideas, so no one could really fault her for it.

During the winter, however, she preferred to remain in Amaranthine. She still visited the Keep and was more than happy to help with any research that needed to be done, but made it clear that she wouldn’t venture too far as soon as the temperature dropped. Given her status as the Hero of Ferelden and her contributions to the Wardens, no one ever questioned this. Though whenever Amell announced she was entering her annual semi-hibernation, she could see Oghren and Howe give each other, then her, a knowing look. But they managed to keep their amusement—and the explanation—to themselves, and she was grateful for it.

This particular winter, the Wardens were looking into the history of the old Elven gods, in response to rumors about yet another potential crisis. Amell was happy to take on the book research and try to figure out if there were any common threads in the multiple stories. Perhaps then, expeditions to look for and speak to Dalish elves wouldn’t be dismissed as completely ignorant. She knew Mouse would be more than happy to assist her, maybe even provide some perspective gleaned from his time in the Fade, but that would have to wait until he’d recovered and was able to fully focus on the task. Or at least, wouldn’t distract Amell with his sneezing and griping about his symptoms.

Amell spent an hour looking through her books, making notes and marking similarities with a small star. She would have continued longer, but then her stomach growled and she knew she should get herself something to eat. Standing up, she stretched and whistled to her dog, who was more than happy to get a little snack. As they headed for the kitchen, she poked her head into the library again. It still wasn’t time for another dose of medicine, but she could at least check to see if Mouse’s fever was spiking.

To her surprise, she didn’t see any sign of Mouse, just the blanket and the book left on his chair. Then she looked closer, and bit back a laugh. There was a small lump resting on top of the still open book, entirely covered by the blanket. Signaling for the Mabari to wait in the hall, Amell crept inside and carefully lifted a corner of the blanket. Sure enough, Mouse’s rodent form was curled up on the left page, fast asleep, a bit of his handkerchief resting against his side. Smiling, Amell cupped her hands around him and lifted him up, carrying him to the hearth, where a basket lined with velvet was waiting. Placing him inside it, she covered him with a piece of embroidered velvet, then checked to make sure there was a clean handkerchief close at hand (or paw). Satisfied, she returned to the chair, where she picked up the book—noting with more amusement that it didn’t seem close to the end of a chapter—and set it on the side table for later. When she checked in on him again in a few hours, there was a good chance he’d be back in the chair, pretending nothing had ever happened. But he’d almost certainly give her a nod and a little smile, and she might even be willing not to joke about falling asleep mid-sentence. After all, that was what you did for your closest friend.

**THE END**


End file.
